Lost in Limbo
by Merlin71
Summary: This is SHEP whumping physically and emotionally. It involves all the main characters and there is a character death.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: LOST IN LIMBO  
****Author: Merlin7  
****Rating: M for language  
****Disclaimer: I don't own any of them. Sucks.**

_This is SHEP whumping physically and emotionally. It involves all the main characters and there is a character death. _

**

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LOST IN LIMBO **

John followed Rodney through the gate, silently urging the scientist to move faster, despite the fact that McKay was limping badly. They had to hurry. "Raise the shield!" John shouted, the moment he was all the way through. And he kept going, cradling Teyla to his chest, knowing that until the shield was up, and the gate shut down, they were still at risk of being fired upon.

Grodin didn't hesitate, he raised the shield.

Elizabeth was already heading down the stairs, calling for a med team as she ran. "What happened?" she asked, as she reached Sheppard. Her eyes flickered from his face to Teyla, who lay unconscious in his arms. Then she stiffened and asked, "Where's Ford?"

"Still on the planet," John replied, the words gritted out. He had hated having to leave him behind. "He was injured," John explained, seeing the unasked question of Why in Weir's eyes.

"How? What happened back there?" Elizabeth prompted.

John shook his head. He had been asking himself the same question ever since they had stepped foot on M45-667. "The natives don't like strangers. Look...I'll explain later, right now --" He broke off as Beckett and his staff arrived. John eased Teyla down onto a gurney at Beckett's request.

Carson examined Teyla but spoke to Sheppard. "What happened to her?"

"Head injury, as far as I can tell." John studied Teyla's pale face and prayed she would be alright. "We took a fall into a chamber. Rodney hurt his ankle." John glanced over to the scientist and was relieved to hear him bitching at one of the nurses who was trying to get his boot off. Rodney would be okay. John turned back to Weir. "Ford broke his leg...couldn't walk...I couldn't carry them both.." he broke off to watch Teyla being rolled away. Then he jumped when a hand touched his face. John glared at Beckett. "Look...I'm fine!" he hissed.

"You're bleeding." Carson held out his red-stained fingertips.

John was surprised by that but it didn't matter. He turned Weir. "I need a team. We have to go back. Ford was down and surrounded. He laid cover fire for us...so we could make it back." John remembered the smile on Ford's face before he turned to follow McKay. A determined smile, made a bit crooked by the pain from his leg.

Elizabeth was shaking her head. "I'm not sending you back, Major," she stated.

"What?" John hadn't expected to hear that and he moved closer, assuming a confrontational stance. "I told him I would come back for him." John could hear his own words echoing in his ears. _Hang in there, Ford. I'll be back soon_. And Ford's reply. _I know you will, sir._

"I'm not sending you or anyone else back there to die, John." Elizabeth's voice was soft but laced with steel.

Anger blazed from his eyes and John leaned in a bit, looming over her, wanting to get his point across. "We can't leave him there! He'll die!"

Elizabeth held her ground. "He'll understand, John. He wouldn't expect you to come back...and you know that."

"Like hell I do!" He couldn't believe that she was saying this. And John didn't want to accept that she believed it.

"He knew the risks."

With a shake of his head, John turned back to the gate. "So do I!" he snarled. "I'm going back for Ford!" And no one was going to stop him.

Elizabeth moved forward, catching him by the arm and hauling him back around to face her. "I won't allow it." Softly spoken but anger now glinted in her eyes.

"I'm not asking for permission!" John hissed. He reminded himself that she didn't understand. She couldn't. She wasn't military and despite everything they had suffered as a unit, since stepping into Atlantis, Weir had yet to be a part of the kind of unity experienced by an off-world team under fire. John couldn't explain it to her, he doubted even Rodney could. That Rodney had come to understand had been a bit of a surprise to them both. But John shook off such thoughts. Time was running out. Striding over to a nearby marine, John relieved him of his P90 and hooked it to his vest. He had dumped his after running out of ammo, and he couldn't have carried it and Teyla anyway. John then turned to look up at Grodin. "Open the gate."

"Belay that order!" Elizabeth countered.

John moved back to face her. He would make her understand. "This is a rescue mission, doctor, which falls under military jurisdiction. Now open the damn gate!" John could feel his body vibrating with anger, and it awakened the pain in his ribs and stabbed at his temples and suddenly everything hazed to gray and he didn't realize he had swayed until a hand gripped his arm.

Elizabeth looked worried. "You're hurt," she said softly.

"If I don't go back...Ford is dead." John was almost whispering now but the sound still pounded in his head, making it ache.

"Acceptable loss, Major." Elizabeth's tone was icy.

John locked eyes with her and it stunned him to see that she believed it. With a shake of his head he replied, "Not to me." Then he was moving, running up the stairs, drawing his side arm. He reached the console where Grodin was standing and pointed his gun at him. "Open the gate," John ordered. And he heard the stunned gasps of everyone around him.

Elizabeth was white with shock.

"MAJOR!"

John recognized Bates' voice even as he turned to face him. He was too close and holding a Wraith stun weapon and before John could react he felt the cold burst like an electric jolt hit him and his knees buckled. But he grabbed the console. He wasn't going down easy. Another burst, this time icy-cold and painful, and everything faded to black.

He didn't feel Weir's hand in his hair or hear her whisper softly, "I'm sorry, John."

Elizabeth had waited to visit the infirmary. But she couldn't put it off any longer. She stopped by Carson's office but he wasn't in there, so she headed for the main room. She found him checking Teyla's vitals. "How is she?"

Carson sighed. "She'll be all right. She has a concussion but she woke up and was fully aware so I'm letting her sleep a bit."

"I am awake," Teyla interjected, as her eyes fluttered open.

"How do you feel?" Elizabeth asked, moving to her bedside.

Teyla frowned. "Well enough, thank you."

Elizabeth understood. She was thinking about Ford. So Elizabeth turned to Rodney. He was sitting up, his left leg propped on a pillow with the ankle tightly bandaged. His lap top was on his lap, but he wasn't using it. He looked...haunted.

"I'm...fine," Rodney replied, his voice sounding a bit hoarse. Then his eyes flickered over to the bed across from him, where Major Sheppard lay.

"How is Sheppard?" Elizabeth asked Beckett, as her eyes followed Rodney's line of sight.

Carson moved to the major's side, checking on the IV he had hooked up to him. "He's got a mild concussion and some cracked ribs. Didn't do himself any favors carrying Teyla, I can tell you that. And he has a low grade fever starting, on top of being dehydrated. Let's just say he'll be keeping me company for a few days. Rodney can leave in the morning and Teyla by tomorrow night, if she keeps showing improvement."

Elizabeth was pleased, overall, but her eyes rested on Sheppard's face. He looked too pale and bruised and she could not shake away the memory of his eyes as he had confronted her in the Gate room. He had been shocked by her words. Shocked and disappointed and Elizabeth wondered if he would ever understand why she had said them. Swallowing a sigh, Elizabeth turned to Rodney. "What happened out there?"

"Long story short..." Rodney started, but paused to shove his laptop aside then he let his fingers pluck at his blanket. "...um...we located an energy reading inside of what looked like the ruins of some kind of temple. We had to go digging to find the source of the reading and Sheppard found what looked like a palm-sized medallion. It was encased in stone but when he touched it...it lit up." He stopped again, as if gathering his thoughts. After shifting about and wincing, Rodney continued. "Ford was lookout and he shouted that the Wraith had appeared, as if out of no where. I'm guessing that the medallion had signaled them somehow when it was activated. Like with Teyla's medallion. Anyway...Ford came running into the chamber and we all retreated into some back chambers. Next thing I know...I'm falling. The floor gave away. I hurt my ankle, Teyla was knocked out and Ford broke his leg. Sheppard said he was alright."

"How far did you fall?" Carson interjected.

Rodney scrunched up his face as he considered. "Maybe twenty feet. Maybe more. It was dark."

Elizabeth reached out and touched his arm and she could feel that he was trembling. "Go on."

"Well...the Wraith were still coming. We could hear them. Our only hope of escape was to run for the gate. Only Ford couldn't run...there was bone sticking out..." Rodney broke off and shuddered, but then he went on. "Teyla was unconscious and the major had to make a decision. He asked me if I could make it to the gate and I told him I'd crawl if I had too. Sheppard knew he'd have to carry Teyla and Ford was okay with that. He said he'd lay down cover fire for us. The major gave him some extra clips then he told him he'd be back for him." Rodney closed his eyes and whispered, "Then Ford said he knew he would."

"I'm sorry about Ford," Elizabeth said softly. "But no one could go back."

Rodney nodded but said nothing. He reached for his lap top and began typing.

Teyla spoke from her bed and her voice was husky. "Major Sheppard will not forgive himself for this."

"It's not his fault," Elizabeth countered, turning to face Teyla. She saw understanding in the other woman's eyes, but sadness displaced it a moment later. Elizabeth felt the same sadness. "I made the choice...I'll live with it." She knew she had no choice but to do so.

"It is not that simple," Teyla replied. "You know that."

Elizabeth nodded then she turned to Carson who had gone back to checking on Major Sheppard. "Let me know when he wakes up."

Carson nodded. "Aye...but it's going to be a while. I'm keeping him lightly sedated for now. He needs to rest."

"Good idea." Elizabeth approved for two reasons. One because they both knew that Sheppard wouldn't stay down if he was awake. And two, because she wasn't ready to face him. But when the time came...she would be. With one last look at the major, Elizabeth exited the room.


	2. Chapter 2

Rodney sat in Elizabeth's office, staring down at his hands. He knew she wanted to talk about what had happened in the Gate Room. He didn't want to talk about that. In fact, he wanted nothing more than to grab his crutches and hobble out of there as fast as he could. But he just sat there, waiting for her to speak.

Elizabeth sighed softly, her gaze steady on Rodney as she stated, "I sent Bates out with a team."

"You did?" Rodney's head shot up in surprise.

"I did." Elizabeth looked uncertain for a moment then her gaze hardened. "The Wraith don't usually stick around after culling, so I deemed it safe to return."

Rodney was pleased by that, for all of ten seconds. "That's...that's good, I guess. It should have been sooner though."

Elizabeth let her eyes close briefly. "I know, Rodney. I wish it could have been sooner, but it still wouldn't have been soon enough."

"Yeah...I guess not." Rodney didn't want to think about that. Didn't want to remember the sight of Ford, resting on his side, P90 at the ready, given them all a chance to escape. They had left him there. Alone. "There's stuff I need to be doing in the lab," Rodney said, as he pushed himself to his feet, one hand gripping the chair for balance as he reached for his crutches. He was klutzy as hell on the damn things, but at least they made him mobile.

"Don't work too hard, Rodney," Elizabeth called after him.

Rodney sighed. There was no such thing. But instead of going to his lab, he took a detour to the infirmary. Major Sheppard was still out.

Teyla was released the afternoon of the following day. But she did not leave the infirmary. Not at first. Instead she sat in a chair next to Major Sheppard's bed and said a few prayers, in the way of her people. One of them was a prayer for the major's recovery. She knew it would not be easy, but he would not be alone.

Rising at last, Teyla bent over him, letting their foreheads touch briefly, feeling the heat of his skin against her own. She knew he was battling a fever, knew that his body would be weak and that he would hate it. But his spirit was strong and she knew that he would find a way to get through what was to come. But it would difficult for them all. Their unity had been shattered. Teyla knew that John Sheppard was the center core of Atlantis. That everyone looked to him to be the heart, soul and strength of Atlantis. If he shattered, they would all fall to ruin.

Closing her eyes against the sting of hot tears, Teyla slipped away. She had more prayers to say. For those they had lost.

John felt disoriented. Something had awakened him. Voices. It took a moment to identify them. One was Beckett and the other was McKay. That sounded about right. Except hearing Beckett's voice usually meant only one thing. John let his eyes flicker open. Yep, he was in the infirmary. He closed his eyes again, letting himself remember what had happened. It was better than staying trapped within the dreams that had haunted his sub conscious mind, even while sedated. And John knew that he had been sedated, he was all too familiar with the after effects. Cotton mouth, muscles that felt like lead, and a fuzzy head.

"I think he's awake."

"Aye."

John had hoped to go unnoticed a while longer, but he turned his head and forced his eyes fully open as he watched Beckett and McKay approach him. 

Carson was smiling. "Welcome back, Major. How do you feel?"

"Sluggish." John knew enough to give Beckett something to work with. Denying his symptoms always made things worse. He lifted a hand to scrub at gritty eyes and realized an IV was taped to the back of it.

"You're dehydrated and battling a bit of an infection," Carson explained, without being prompted.

John nodded and regretted the motion. Pain stabbed in his temples and his fingers moved to massage them.

Carson was watching him. "I can give you something for the pain."

"It's fine." John didn't trust Beckett not to give him something strong enough to knock him out again. "I'd like some water."

"I got it." Rodney was closest to the bedside table and he balanced his crutches under his armpits as he grabbed the water glass and held it out to Sheppard.

John took it, gratefully. "Thanks." After a few sips his throat felt less like sandpaper and he handed the glass back, then he forced a smile. "How are you doing, Rodney? How's the ankle?"

Rodney shrugged. "It's annoying, but it could have been worse."

"Where is Teyla?" John remembered hearing her soft voice, as if in a dream. He turned his head, searching the other beds for her.

"I released her a few hours ago," Carson replied "She needs to take it easy, but she'll be fine."

John was glad to hear that. It helped that Rodney and Teyla were going to be okay. "How long was I out?"

Rodney winced and didn't answer.

Carson cleared his throat then replied, "About twenty-seven hours."

"What?" John was stunned to hear it had been so long. Too much time had passed. He started to throw back the covers when thick fingers gripped arm. John looked up and glared at Beckett.

"You're not going anywhere, major," Carson stated, firmly. "You'll be here a few days."

John opened his mouth to argue but clamped it shut. He pulled his arm free of Beckett's grip and made the effort to still the anger that had flared up inside him like a white-hot flame. Getting angry wouldn't help. John took a few deep breaths, exhaling slowly then he forced a smile and nodded at Beckett. "Sorry." He saw the surprised look the doctor exchanged with McKay and was rather pleased at himself for catching them off guard.

Carson moved to check Sheppard's IV then said, "It's all right, Major. Just rest. I'll send for some soup and you can eat a bit then sleep. It's what you need most."

"Can I speak with Dr. Weir first?" John requested, and he saw that surprised Beckett. Rodney too. Although he thought it shouldn't have.

"I'll get her," Rodney offered, as he shifted on his crutches then headed out, knocking a basin off a nearby tray table as he hobbled by it.

Carson moved to pick it up then he returned to Sheppard's bedside. "Can I get you anything?" he queried.

John shook his head. There was nothing Beckett could do for him now. Weir was the only one who could make things happen and John's fingers plucked at the blanket as he felt another flare of anger. He fought to control it. He had to keep his cool. He had to make her understand this time. Ford's life depended on it.

"I'll go send for that soup then," Carson said softly. "Call if you need me."

"I will," John promised, not looking up from the blanket. But after a moment he let his head fall back against the pillow and closed his eyes. And the image burned into the inside of his eyelids was Ford's face. There had been trust shining in the dark eyes. Trust and pain. Ford trusted him and Sheppard was not going to let him down. He was going to bring Ford home.

"Major?"

John started at the sound of Weir's voice beside him. He opened his eyes and studied her for a moment. She looked nervous and uncertain and that surprised him, but he could worry about that later. "Doctor," he replied. "You need to send a team for Ford. Send Bates." John paused as Sgt. Bates suddenly appeared beside Weir and John realized he had been there all along.

Elizabeth reached out and touched Sheppard on the arm. "Major...I already sent Sgt. Bates back for Ford," she said softly.

"You did?" John was surprised by that. She had been so determined to keep him from going back before. He could still here her words echoing in his head. _Acceptable loss, Major._

"I did." Elizabeth looked grim and then she turned to Bates and nodded.

John watched as Bates moved to his side. Then a hand was being held out towards him and dangling from the palm were a pair of dogtags. John knew what that meant. He felt his throat tighten and he shook his head a moment. He did not want this to be real. For a moment he simply stared at the tags, but then his own hand was reaching out, fingers curling around the chain, and the jangle of the tags was sharp in his ears as he closed his hand into a fist. John locked eyes with Bates. "What happened?" He had to know.

Bates cleared his throat then gave his report. "The planet was deserted when we got there. We found the ruins and located Lt. Ford's remains. We brought him back to Atlantis. I thought you would want the tags, sir."

"Thank you." John's voice was hoarse to his own ears then he remembered something. "We need to put a message together for his grandparents, for when we're able to contact earth."

"Already taken care of," Elizabeth replied. "There's going to be a memorial service in a few days. As soon as you're out of here, Major."

John nodded but he had already tuned her out. He closed his eyes and tightened his fist, feeling the edges of the silver tags digging into his palm. He had failed Ford. That was all he could focus on at the moment. He heard Weir speaking to Bates. Heard her say goodbye to him and then they were gone. John didn't open his eyes. He just lay there with the last image of Ford dancing in his head. Mocking him.


	3. Chapter 3

Life continued, the way life does. Uncaring and unmindful of the fact that Lt. Aiden Ford was dead.

But life was out of kilter for John. He felt off-balanced, off-centered, but he didn't let it show. In fact, he revealed nothing for the three days he remained in the infirmary. Although he knew he had Beckett worried about him, simply because he acted like a model patient. He slept when he was supposed to sleep, ate when he was supposed to eat. Took his medication without argument and never once asked when he would be released. John derived a small amount of satisfaction from the fact that he seemed to be making everyone around him as unsettled as he felt. This wasn't supposed to be easy, on any of them. Losing Ford created a gaping hole that John could not allow to be filled. The hole was deep inside him.

The memorial service for Ford was scheduled for the night of John's release. He listened as Beckett gave him a list of things to do and not to do. He accepted the small bottle of Tylenol that he was ordered to use as needed, and he nodded his head when Beckett repeated, endlessly, that he needed to eat properly and continue to rest.

Then John was finally free and the first place he went to was the balcony that was east of his room. It was small and jutted out over city itself, rather than the water, and John knew no one ever came there but himself. It was his own, private, retreat. He moved to stand at the railing, hands gripping it tightly to ground himself when a wave of dizziness hit him, unexpectedly. John closed his eyes till it passed then he slid one hand into his pants pocket and withdrew one of Ford's dog tags. The other, still attached to the chain, he had given to Weir to pack up for Ford's grandparents. Someday they would find a way to send them home. But the one tag John clutched in his hand for a moment before tossing it hard. He didn't know where it would land and it didn't matter. It was a part of the city now, just as Ford had been.

This was the only way John knew how to say goodbye to him.

The memorial service started late. Elizabeth held off as long as she could, waiting for Sheppard to appear. But after twenty minutes, everyone started to get restless and Elizabeth knew the major wasn't coming. So she stepped up to the podium and made her speech. Then she stepped down to let others say a few words, moving to the back of the room and positioning herself so that she could keep one eye on the door.

But Sheppard never came. When the service was over, Elizabeth went looking for him. She found him in the last place she decided to look. In his room. When he invited her in, she was surprised to find him reading. Elizabeth moved to the bed and, without preamble, asked, "Why didn't you come to the service?"

"Was it mandatory?" John countered, as he marked his place in War and Peace and set it aside before looking up at her. He could see that she was both angry and puzzled.

"No...it wasn't mandatory," Elizabeth replied. "But I thought you would have wanted to be there. So you could say goodbye."

John felt her watching him, even when he shifted his gaze back down to the bed. "I don't need a service to do that," he said softly.

Elizabeth wasn't sure how to reply to that. She wasn't sure if she had a right to say anything. It bothered her that Sheppard wouldn't look at her now. It bothered her how calm and detached he sounded. From the moment they first met she had realized he was a man who burned with passion and determination. But now it was as if the fire inside him had burned out, and she felt the loss of that as deeply as she felt the loss of Lt. Ford. "I'm sorry," Elizabeth whispered, and she wasn't quite sure what it was she was apologizing for.

"So am I." John let it go at that. He knew what she meant, why she was here, but he didn't want to deal with her right now. He wanted to be alone. "I'm tired." He spoke quietly but bluntly.

"Of course." Elizabeth knew that he wanted her to leave, but she could also see that he was exhausted. She also knew that after she left he would pick up his book again rather than sleep. But she doubted he would read a single word. "Goodnight, Major," Elizabeth said, before turning and heading for the door.

John didn't respond in kind. He simply reached for his book, letting her go. There was nothing more to say. Nothing they could say that would change anything anymore. Once she was gone he opened his book again, but every word he read had no meaning. Still John turned page after page until the break of day. Once the light of day filled his room, chasing away the literal shadows, John prayed that the metaphorical shadows would be put to rest and only then did he close his eyes.

He slid into warm darkness, but his dreams were as unsettled as his soul.

"May I sit with you?"

Rodney looked up from his empty coffee cup, startled, and saw Teyla smiling at him. "Uh...sure," he replied, feeling a bit awkward. He and Teyla were teammates but little more. They didn't have enough in common, on any level, to become actual friends. And Rodney was fine with that. Friends were overrated anyway, and way too much maintenance. Still, he watched her sit and waited.

Teyla settled herself in the chair across from McKay. "How is your ankle?" she asked him.

"Still hurts and I hate crutches," Rodney stated, bluntly.

"It will heal if you give it time," Teyla responded.

Rodney knew that. "No kidding," he countered, leaning back in his chair to fold his arms over his chest and glare. "Did you want something?" Rodney was not good with small talk and pleasantries.

Teyla nodded. "I wanted to know how you were doing?"

"Why?" And Rodney could not keep the suspicion out of his tone.

"Because it matters to me," Teyla said softly. "This is a difficult time for everyone, but more so for the major. We must be strong for him."

Rodney knew that. He rubbed a hand over his face and blurted out," Sheppard is a soldier. He's killed a lot of people and he's used to people dying. He'll get over this, no problem."

Teyla reached out, but stopped short of touching Rodney's arm. Still, it drew his attention and she locked eyes with him. "This is different, Dr. McKay. You know that it is." And with that she stood up and walked away.

Heaving a sigh, Rodney went back to staring at his empty coffee cup. He knew what she meant, all too well.

John came awake with a start, heart thudding in his chest, his skin slicked in a cold sweat, and the image of Sumner's face imprinted in his head. It was one of many faces. Ford's image had been prominent in John's dreams. Gaul's face as well. Easier to bear was the sound of all the Genii hitting the shield and being zapped out of existence. Faceless death was easier to deal with. The death of the enemy was a niggling kind of guilt he could swat away like a fly when it bothered him too much. The death of a fellow soldier, like Sumner, that was something that ghosted the edges of his awareness at all times, but only came out to be recognized when he slept. That was the kind of guilt that reminded John who he was. A human being. It kept his moral code intact. But the death of a friend was something that coiled itself inside of John. Twisting in his gut, wrenching in his heart and eating away at his soul. It yanked at his emotional chain and it taunted John because it was something beyond his control. He hated not being in control.

Shoving back the blankets, John got out of bed and headed for the shower. He moved stiffly, head pounding and ribs aching, but the hot water eased some elasticity back into his muscles and joints. He felt better physically, but emotionally he was still knotted up inside. John cursed himself and fought for balance. His yin and yang were out of whack.

Dressing in jeans and a black tee shirt, John headed out of his room. It was late and he had no place in particular to go, but he didn't want to be alone right now. So he put on his game face and headed for the messhall. He would eat and chat and let everyone see that he was okay. He had to make sure everyone was ready to move on. That was how the cycle worked and John knew it would be up to him to keep the cycle going.

Because the enemy was still out there.

Carson was working on some reports when Dr. Weir appeared in his doorway.

"Got a minute?" she asked him.

"Of course, come sit." Carson pointed to the only other chair in the small room.

Elizabeth sat down and got straight to the point. "When will Major Sheppard be ready to go on full duty?"

Carson frowned as he considered. He had examined Sheppard again just a few hours ago and sent him to his room to rest. "I'd say at least a week. His ribs need to heal."

"Do you think we should send him to Kate?" Elizabeth countered, and her tone was carefully neutral.

"Why?" Carson was surprised by the question and let it show. "I mean...is there a reason why you're asking me that? Has he done something?"

Elizabeth shook her head and a small sigh escaped her. "No...which is kind of my point. Major Sheppard hasn't acted at all the way I expected him too. He's so...he's so calm and detached."

Carson knew what she meant. Sheppard's behavior kept throwing him off too. "Give him some time to deal with what's happened," Carson advised. "You have to remember that the major has had more to deal with than anyone else here. He came to Atlantis expecting to turn things on and off and ended up as the ranking military officer. He wasn't prepared for any of this."

"I know...that's my fault." Regret colored Elizabeth's voice.

"Don't blame yourself, dearie," Carson chided her. "None of us knew what to expect. And Sheppard...he's very adaptable. Lucky for us. He just needs a bit of time. He's a strong man."

Elizabeth nodded. "I know." She rose slowly to her feet, moving almost stiffly.

Carson studied her a moment then asked, "Have you talked to Kate?"

"Me?" Elizabeth looked surprised. "You know I have. You made it rather mandatory. Once every three months or you'll have me relieved of duty."

"I meant since Ford died," Carson specified. "I know you're feeling guilty about your decision."

Elizabeth snorted. "I feel guilty about a lot of things."

Carson knew that Sheppard was one of those things, but all he did was nod. "Well...just something to think about."

"I will," Elizabeth replied. Then she offered a sad smile before exiting the room.

Carson watched her go then turned back to his reports, but he couldn't concentrate. So he got up to do his rounds. Even without major Sheppard as a patient, Carson had enough going on to keep him busy. But it wasn't enough to distract him from his worried thoughts. Dr. Weir and Major Sheppard were the core of Atlantis, and right now that core was shattered. Carson just hoped and prayed it wouldn't break, or God help them all.

Rodney wasn't sure if he was doing the right thing. It wasn't as if he and Sheppard were friends, exactly. Rodney knew they were more than teammates and, if he was honest with himself, he had a lot of respect for Sheppard. The man wasn't some dumb soldier. Not only that, but he could trade barbs with Rodney and make it seem almost...fun. And Rodney missed that. Which was largely his fault because he had rather been avoiding the major since Ford had died.

But Teyla had kept pushing him to visit. She told Rodney that Sheppard was pretty much holed up in his room under Doctor's orders to rest, but that he welcomed all company. Although she did add that he seemed reluctant to talk about Ford. Which was actually okay with Rodney. He had talked about that with Dr. Heightmeyer and he could deal with it. But what he was going to say to Sheppard since they weren't on a mission or in the lab or in a briefing, Rodney didn't know. That problem filtered away when the door suddenly slid open and Sheppard was standing there, not quite smiling at him.

"You coming in or are you going to linger in the hallway all night?" John asked.

"Guess I'll come in, if you get out of the way," Rodney countered, irritably.

John simply nodded and stepped back.

Rodney surged forward on his crutches until he reached the bed, then he dropped down onto it, gratefully letting the crutches fall to the floor.

"When do you get off those things?" John asked, as he moved to stand in front of McKay. His foot nudged the fallen crutches.

"Hopefully tomorrow," Rodney replied. "I'm going to burn them."

John almost smiled again. "Been busy?" he prompted. "Haven't seen much of you."

Rodney flushed at that. "Yeah...well...I'm always busy," he replied. "But...I've been avoiding you." Rodney saw no reason to be honest.

"Why?" John was honest right back at him.

"Didn't know what to say to you."

Frown lines marred John's forehead. "Since when? You always have something to say, Rodney."

Rodney shrugged. "This was different."

"Why?" John's eyes narrowed as they locked on Rodney's face.

"Because...it is. You know why!" Rodney did not want to do this. They both knew what he was talking about. _Who_ he was talking about. Why was Sheppard making this so hard?

John closed his eyes for a moment then said softly. "We lost one of our team."

Rodney nodded, even though he knew Sheppard couldn't see it. "Yeah. It changes things and I don't deal well with change."

"Which is why you left Earth for a whole 'nother galaxy," John snorted.

"You know what I mean." Rodney didn't bother to snap back with a witty remark. He wasn't in the mood for it. So he just looked at Sheppard and was rather surprised when the major looked disappointed.

Moving to the chair at his desk, John sat down carefully. "Life goes on, Rodney."

Rodney rolled his eyes, but Sheppard's comment bothered him a bit. The man was acting oddly. Rodney couldn't put a finger on what it was that felt off, exactly. Sheppard just wasn't himself. "But what happens to us?" he asked. "I mean...the rest of us. This changes the team."

"Good question." It was John's turn to shrug. "I haven't discussed it with Weir. Beckett hasn't cleared me yet, so it hasn't come up. I'll let you know what we decide."

"I don't want Bates on the team," Rodney countered.

John was quiet for a moment then he stated, "Bates is a good soldier."

Now Rodney was really starting to worry. Since when did Sheppard go around defending Bates? "He's an arrogant ass," Rodney snapped.

"He does his job, Rodney. He follows protocol and the chain of command." John's eyes were dark now and his voice was barely a whisper. "He does what he does to keep Atlantis safe."

"That's what we're all doing!" Rodney shot back. "We just do it in different ways! Doesn't make me like Bates any better."

John simply nodded.

Rodney was beyond worried now. He didn't like the look on Sheppard's face. He looked, defeated. And that was a look Rodney had never expected to see. The major was not one to give up on anyone, or anything, ever. Reaching down for his crutches, Rodney then struggled to his feet. "You probably need to rest, or something...and I've got stuff to do in my lab," he said, as he made his way to the door. He realized Sheppard hadn't responded and Rodney let it go. He left and had to resist the urge to head to the infirmary to speak with Beckett. Rodney wanted the old Sheppard back. But maybe the major just needed a little time.

After two more days in his room resting and reading and dreaming, John headed for the infirmary. He wanted to be cleared back to duty. Beckett examined him and gave him the okay for light duty, but he was still grounded to Atlantis for at least another week. His ribs still needed to heal and John couldn't hide from Beckett how tender they still were. So he accepted his fate, for now, but he was tired of his room. He needed to be active again. So John stopped back to his room only long enough to grab his gym bag, then he headed for the exercise arena.

Not so surprisingly, Teyla was there. John was glad to see her. She was a good friend and he had appreciated her visits to him. But he knew that she was trying to hard to get him to talk about things. John didn't want to talk. He was more about action. So he grabbed his sticks from his bag and moved to face Teyla. "Ready to kick my butt?" he invited.

"You are not well enough, major," Teyla countered, her voice soft but firm. "Perhaps once Dr. Beckett has cleared you."

"I just came from the infirmary," John replied, as he twirled the sticks through his fingers.

Teyla looked surprised. "And he cleared you?"

John winced at that and knew better than to lie. Teyla would see right through it. "Not exactly, but I'm not confined to my room anymore. And I really need the exercise. I'm too stiff and it makes things worse." He knew she would understand that. Teyla was grounded in her own physicality.

"We shall practice the moves then," she allowed. "I will teach you and it will be like a dance."

"I have two left feet," John warned her and he rather enjoyed the frown that marred her face. So he explained. "I'm not very good at dancing."

Teyla smiled at that and shook her head. "You have a natural grace, major. And a good center for balance. You are just not connected to them consciously. We shall work on that."

John was willing. Anything to be in motion. To keep the memories at bay. "What do you want me to do?"

"Just watch me and do as I do," Teyla replied, as she positioned herself in front of the major. Then she started by moving her arms.

"So far so good," John replied, as he mirrored her movements. His muscles protested a bit at first, feeling stiff from disuse, but Teyla repeated the motions over and over again, like a warm up and John was grateful. Then she changed her movements and added steps. John's ribs had pulled a bit before but now they just about screamed with some of the motions, but he gritted his teeth and focused only on following every move Teyla made.

When she stopped the lesson because he was sweating and shaking, it took a bit of charm on John's part to keep her from calling Beckett. He let her walk him to his room and thanked her for the lesson. The moment he was alone, John picked up the sticks and fell into a fighting stance. He kept in motion until his fingers could no longer hold the sticks. 

Then he practically crawled into the shower then into bed. And tonight he slept without dreaming.


	4. Chapter 4

John came awake with a start, hissing at the pull of not only his ribs, but every muscle in his body. He was so sore it hurt to blink. But he tried to focus on the pain rather than the lingering images of his dream. But Ford's face still haunted him as he dragged his body out of bed.

Glancing at the clock, John realized he had slept for almost eight hours, but he still felt exhausted. Still, he forced himself to move to the center of his room and begin the movements Teyla had taught him, but without the sticks. After twenty minutes, he still felt sore but his muscles were more relaxed and after a long, hot, shower, John felt more human.

He headed for the messhall, got a tray and made his way to an empty table in the back. He wasn't in the least bit hungry, but John made himself eat. But he gave up after a few bites and was pushing the tray aside when McKay dropped down into the chair across from him.

"Busy?" Rodney asked.

"No crutches," John countered.

Rodney made a face. "How observant of you."

John let a smile curve his lips. "Did you burn them?"

"Would have if Carson hadn't snatched them from me. Must be I was projecting my intentions." Rodney stared at Sheppard's tray. "You going to finish that?"

"No. Have at it." John watched as Rodney pulled it towards him and finished off his toast and eggs substitute.

Around a mouthful of food Rodney stated, "I need your help in the lab."

John wasn't interested in turning things off and on. "You have the gene," he reminded Rodney.

"I know that." Another mouthful of eggs which Rodney swallowed quickly, then he reached for Sheppard's untouched glass of juice. He drained it then said, "I need your math skills."

"Did Weir put you up to this?" John couldn't help but be suspicious.

Rodney frowned at him. "Actually, I put me up to this. I asked her if you could help me and she said you were cleared for light duty."

John couldn't argue that fact and he hated the thought of hanging out in his room with nothing to do. "What do you need me for?"

"Just some calculations."

"Why can't you do them?"

Rodney rolled his eyes. "I could...of course, but you're actually faster at it. And if you tell anyone I said that I'll deny it vehemently."

John felt another smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I wouldn't dare say a thing," he replied. "When do you need me?"

"Now?" Rodney was finished with breakfast and he pushed back his chair.

"I'll meet you in your lab," John countered, rising as well and trying not to betray how stiff and sore he felt. He didn't think Rodney noticed. "I need to find Teyla first."

Rodney hesitated then nodded. "Fine. Just don't be long or I'll sick Ford on --" he broke off, horrified by what he had said.

John had stiffened at Ford's name, feeling his face grow tight with tension. "It's okay, Rodney," he said, his voice carefully controlled. "We can say his name. It's not like we're going to forget about him." John knew he never would. With that he turned and walked away, feeling Rodney's eyes burning into his back all the way to the door.

After leaving Rodney, John went in search of Teyla and confirmed a time for them to practice again. That done he did as promised and met Rodney at his lab. John then spent a few hours working on calculations and in between he amused himself on a borrowed laptop by perusing some of the Ancient text. John figured it wouldn't hurt to try and learn to read it for himself. When lunch time arrived, John excused himself. He wasn't hungry and he wanted to be alone, so he headed off to his private balcony. He hadn't been back since he tossed Ford's dog tag over the railing.

But he didn't want to think about Ford. Leaving him behind had been out of his control and John knew it. Instead he sat down and thought about everything he had done since coming to Atlantis. He considered all of the choices he had made. All the mistakes. Some things he wished he could change, but for the most part he knew that were he able to do things over again, he would make the same choices. John had long ago learned to follow his instinct. It had served him well. And in doing so he had learned to deal with the aftermath. And he would do so again.

Rising to his feet, John pressed a hand to his ribs and sighed. Then he headed for his room to grab his gym bag. It was time for another session with Teyla.

John focused on nothing but the flow of each move he made. He was still mirroring Teyla's motions, but concentrated solely on what he was feeling. How each move flowed into the other. How each muscle in his body stretched and pulled to follow. He knew which areas burned with the stretch, meaning he needed to make them more flexible. He began to understand every weakness. John finally got what Teyla had been trying to teach him from the beginning. To become one with himself. Mind, body and soul. It wasn't something he was used to, or particularly comfortable with, but John vowed to make the effort. This kind of focus felt more external than internal, at least to the point that it kept him distracted from his subconscious thoughts. It gave him back a sense of control.

"Enough!" Teyla spoke sharply and without warning.

It startled John enough to set him off balance and he glared at her a bit as he caught himself. "I don't want to stop."

Teyla looked angry for a moment then she shook her head. "You are pushing yourself too hard, Major. You must let yourself heal. Inside...and out."

"Guess that means no?" John was being deliberately obtuse. He knew what she was saying but he wasn't going to play the game. He did not want to talk.

"I miss him too," Teyla said softly. "We all do."

John hid a wince as he moved to where his gym bag sat on a nearby bench. He tossed his sticks into it then grabbed his towel and wiped his face. Then he took a long swig from his water bottle before turning back to Teyla to reply. "I don't want to talk about Ford."

Teyla moved to stand before him and asked, "What if I do?"

"I'm sure you can find someone to talk to. Try Rodney." John grabbed his gym bag and was ready to leave but froze at the touch of a hand on his arm.

"You cannot run from what you feel, Major," Teyla said, as she turned him back to face her.

John let himself lock eyes with her. He had nothing to hide. "I'm not running from anything, Teyla." He shrugged off her hand. "Ford is dead and there isn't a damn thing I can do to change that. I'm not going to beat myself up about it."

Teyla looked surprised by his words and her eyes narrowed as she studied him for a long moment. Then she spoke softly. "I believe that is exactly what you are doing, Major. You blame yourself for his death."

"No...I don't!" John spoke more sharply than he had intended and he made himself relax, forcing stiff muscle to let go of the tension that thrummed throughout his body. "Ford was a soldier and he died in the line of duty. It doesn't get any better than that." That said, John turned again and strode out the door. He returned to his room and grabbed his sticks again. Ignoring his body's protests, John repeated the dance that Teyla had taught him. Move after move, pattern after pattern, again and again until he slid to the floor in defeat.

For the next three days, John's life became a pattern. He would eat breakfast with Rodney then join him in his lab to play human calculator. At lunch time John would head for his balcony, rain or shine, until it was time to meet Teyla for practice. She gave up trying to talk to him about Ford and they finally integrated the dance into true combat and John felt triumphant when he took her down. His muscles burned and ached in protest and he was sheened in sweat, but John was pleased. But he didn't let that show as he helped Teyla to her feet. "Again?" he asked.

"Not today," she replied. "You did well." Teyla moved so they could touch foreheads.

But John sidestepped and grabbed his gym bag. "See you tomorrow," he called over his shoulder. Then he went back to his room to practice some more. And like all the nights before, he slept without dreaming.

Beckett broke the pattern.

John was heading out of his room to meet Rodney for breakfast when he was paged by the doctor. So John headed for the infirmary and he wasn't too happy when Beckett told him it was time for another exam. But he said nothing as he sat on the nearest exam bed and accepted Beckett's poking and prodding. He answered every question honestly then slid to his feet when Beckett was done. "So...am I cleared for full duty now?" John prompted.

"Not yet," Carson replied, without hesitation.

That surprised John. "Why not? I feel good."

Carson looked up from Sheppard's chart, his eyes solemn. "You're healing well but I can tell you're still sore. I know you've been practicing with Teyla."

"And that's a problem?" John felt a flare of anger but kept it tamped down.

"You need to give yourself time to heal, major."

John took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before replying. "I'm healing just fine."

Carson shook his head. "You're losing weight and I'm guessing you're not sleeping well."

"Lousy guess," John shot back. "I sleep just fine."

"Be that as it may, I'm keeping you on light duty for another week." Carson's tone brooked no argument.

John knew better than to protest. Beckett was calling the shots and they both knew it. "Fine." John's voice betrayed nothing of what he was feeling. He kept his anger and frustration in check. "Can I go now?"

Carson nodded. "I want to see you again in three days, major."

"I'll be here." With that John stepped past him and headed out the door. He kept going, stepping into the nearest transporter and soon he was knocking on Weir's door.

She looked surprised to see him. "Come in, John. What can I do for you?"

He stepped in and closed the door. "I figured I'd give you the update. I'm still grounded."

"I figured as much," Elizabeth allowed. "You need time to heal, John."

"I assume you've been using Bates in my place?" John countered. "Sending him offworld as first team?"

Elizabeth nodded. "That's right. Is that a problem?"

John shook his head. "No. But I have a request."

"Let's hear it," Elizabeth invited.

"I want all military personnel back in training," John replied. He had been thinking about this for a while now and since he couldn't go off world, he might as well make himself useful elsewhere. "We've gotten lax. I want to take teams in shifts out to the mainland. The south area isn't inhabited and we can use it for target practice. I want any scientific personnel who go off world to participate as well."

Elizabeth was silent for a long moment, considering, then she nodded. "Okay. I think it's a good idea."

John had expected to have to argue his point so he was surprised by her easy capitulation, but he didn't let it show. "Thanks." That was all he said before he turned to leave.

"Major!"

"Yes?" John turned back and caught her watching him with a sad look on her face. But she shook it off and he wondered what it meant. Not that it mattered.

Elizabeth straightened her shoulders then said, "You need to be thinking about a replacement for your team. You'll be back out there soon."

John knew that better than anyone. "I have a few candidates in mind," he said, hoping she wouldn't ask who because then he would have to lie to her. He hadn't given it any thought and he didn't want to think about it. No one could replace Ford. No one.

"Good." Elizabeth sounded uncertain but she was smiling. "Let me know when you're ready to run them by me."

"Of course." John made to leave again but she called him back. This time he froze but he didn't turn around. He didn't want to see her watching him again. He could feel her eyes on him and it raised the hairs on the back of his neck. John felt as if the walls were closing in on him and it took all his will power not to run from the room.

Elizabeth looked at Sheppard's tense form for a moment then said, "Never mind. We can talk again later." 

He nodded, nothing more, and made good his escape. His measured stride not revealing his inner turmoil. But when John stepped into the nearest transporter he was sweaty and shaky and he slid down to the floor and buried his face in his hands.


	5. Chapter 5

"Do you like cats?"

John was surprised by the question and he looked up from his plateful of substitute egg product to make a face at Rodney. "Why do you ask?" he countered.

Rodney shrugged. "Just curious. You look like a dog person."

"I like cats and dogs," John replied. He wondered if there was a reason why Rodney was asking him this. If maybe there was some hidden meaning he was supposed to be getting. But if that were the case, John was missing it. "Does it matter?" he prompted.

"No." Rodney shoveled a forkful of eggs into his mouth, chewed, swallowed then said, "I miss my cat."

John felt like he'd been hit with an anvil. Rodney was projecting. He missed Ford, he missed his cat. John wasn't sure he was ready for this. "Sorry." He didn't know what else to say.

Rodney nodded then reached for his coffee mug only to set it aside when he realized it was empty. "Did you have pets as a kid?"

"I had a dog. He got hit by a car." John was surprised at himself for revealing so much.

"How old were you?"

John grimaced, not really wanting to go there. But he sensed that Rodney needed to talk about this so he would humor him. For the moment. "I was ten. It was no big deal. We were moving again in a few months so he would have ended up with the neighbor anyway."

Rodney looked surprised. "You moved around a lot?"

"Military kid, Rodney," John replied. He pushed aside his plate and reached for his coffee cup, catching a glance at his watch. "You didn't forget about today, did you?" he asked, abruptly changing the subject. No more trips down memory lane. John preferred to live in the present moment. It was easier that way. Nothing to drag you down.

"Today?" Rodney's face scrunched up as he tried to remember what Sheppard was talking about. Then it hit him and he sighed. "Do I really have to go?" 

John smiled as he listened to Rodney whining. "Yes...everyone does the training or you don't go through the gate." Two days had passed since Elizabeth had approved John's idea of retraining everyone. Yesterday he had found the perfect spot for target practice on the mainland and he had taken three groups there for practice sessions before dark. Today he would take another three or four and Rodney was in the first group. Rodney could fire a gun but he wasn't comfortable with it. John wanted it to become an extension of McKay's arm. It could save his life someday.

Rodney was still frowning. "Can't I go tomorrow? I really do have a lot of things to do today."

"You can do them later." John finished his coffee then pushed back his chair. "I've got stick practice with Teyla so the first group leaves in two hours. Don't be late, Rodney...I will hunt you down." With that John offered a half smile before turning and heading for the door.

"Major...are you in pain?"

John was surprised by the question and he let it show as he turned to lock eyes with Teyla. "No...I'm fine." His tone was carefully neutral when he replied.

Teyla studied him a moment, then nodded. "You...went somewhere else for a moment."

"Did I?" Once again John was surprised, or maybe not. He had zoned out for a moment, the image of Ford's face when John had explained to him about the effects about pulling G's without inertial dampening. The kid had turned green as he handed over the turkey sandwich he'd made for John as a bribe. He had to stop doing that. He had to let go of the past. Shaking off the memory, John twirled the sticks in his hands and fell into a fighting stance. "Let's go again," he invited.

"As you wish." Teyla moved to face him.

John watched her eyes, waiting for the flicker that would betray her intentions and he saw it a quick glance towards his left hand and John twisted and moved with his right hand, blocking her blow. Then he was the one striking out, a quick left which she deflected but it was only a distraction. John followed through with his right, slipping in past Teyla's defenses. Taking her down with the move she had used on him all too often.

Teyla looked surprised as she hit the ground, but she was smiling as she accepted his hand, letting Sheppard pull her to her feet. "You have learned well, Major."

"Had a good teacher." John rolled his shoulder as he moved to the bench and uncapped his water bottle. As he raised it to his mouth he felt a slight pull in his ribs. It grated at him how slowly he seemed to be healing.

"You must give yourself time to heal," Teyla interjected, softly.

John sometimes believed she could read his mind. Or maybe he was just projecting too much. He would have to be more careful. "Patience has never been one of my virtues," he replied.

Teyla smiled at that. "Some things are worth waiting for, Major. In time...all wounds will heal."

John knew what she was leading up too. Every day Teyla tried to talk to him about Ford. And every day John politely, but firmly, blew her off. He capped his water and stuffed it in his bag before snatching it up. "I have to go. I'm heading out to the mainland with the first team in thirty minutes." With that he was gone, but he knew that Teyla eyes were on him until he was out of sight. She watched him too closely. It felt to John as if everyone did that and he kept wondering what they were waiting for him to do.

Pushing such thoughts aside, John headed for his room. He was just about to step into a transporter, which would send him to his section, when Weir appeared before him.

"Can we talk?" she asked.

"If it's quick," John replied. "I have to shower and head out to the mainland."

Elizabeth nodded. "How is the training going?"

John shrugged. "So far so good. My men are pretty much up to par, but the civilians need work."

"Just don't push too hard."

"I won't break your civilians," John promised, and he was not quite teasing.

Elizabeth offered a weak smile then her eyes darkened as they locked on his. "I meant...don't push yourself too hard."

John was surprised to hear that. "I'm fine. Worry about Atlantis, not about me." His tone was carefully neutral but John felt a flare of anger that he had to snuff out.

"Fair enough." Elizabeth looked a bit hurt but quickly schooled her expression. "I wanted to ask if you've chosen anyone for your team yet?"

"As a matter of fact, I have." John had made his decision just this morning. "Lt. Blake. He's a good soldier."

Elizabeth was silent a moment, as if considering his choice, then she nodded. "I think he'll do well."

John said nothing. He just made to move past her into the transporter. He needed to get going. But a hand on his arm stopped him and he pulled back from her touch.

"One more thing," Elizabeth said, as she clasped her hands together in front of her. She looked a bit unsettled for a moment but brushed it off. "I was wondering if you could spare some time later this afternoon to look over a few mission reports with me. I have some decisions to make and I would appreciate your input."

"Whatever you decide, I'm sure it will be the right thing to do," John replied, without hesitation. She didn't need his advice in the past and he had no intention of offering it up to her now. He knew that it was nothing more than an empty gesture on her part. A type of negotiation between them. But John wasn't interested. "I have to go." With that he stepped into the transporter, thinking the door closed behind him.

Rodney found a shady spot and plopped down in it. He was tired. Sheppard had made him stay for two training periods to practice shooting. Actually, he mainly had him stay to practice loading and reloading his gun. Rodney knew he wasn't good at it. He was a scientist, not a soldier. So he fumbled with the clip a bit. So what? But he knew so what. He knew that Sheppard just wanted to make sure he could protect himself. Which was, overall, a good thing, but Rodney knew that something was driving the major. 

The interesting thing was that Sheppard was being firm with everyone, but not demanding. Especially with the civilians. He was encouraging and patient but at the same time he was relentless. Not an easy balance to achieve, but somehow Sheppard managed it. For now.

"You all right, McKay?"

Rodney jumped at the sound of Sheppard's voice right beside him. Sometimes the man could move with the stealth of a cat. "Sure...I'm good," Rodney replied. "Why? Don't I look all right?" Without realizing it, Rodney started checking his own pulse. He wasn't a borderline hypochondriac for nothing.

John shook his head. "You look fine. So why are you sitting over here instead of shooting?"

"Because I'm hot and tired and I ran out of bullets," Rodney replied, honestly. "Besides, don't you think we need to save ammo?" Rodney was willing to try anything to be able to go back to Atlantis. He really did have a lot of things to do in his lab.

"SG1 sent a huge supply, McKay," John countered. "Don't worry about. Besides, it's ammo well spent if it enables you to protect yourself out in the field."

Rodney sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, then he swatted at what looked like an oversized fly as it buzzed around his head. "Look...I have you and the other grunts to protect me. Remember?" He figured that would get a rise out of Sheppard.

But John merely looked away from McKay and said softly, "Yeah...I remember." Then he turned back and his expression was neutral as he ordered, "Now get up and start shooting." That said he walked back to the target area.

Watching him go, Rodney suddenly realized something. The man John Sheppard used to be was fading away, and Rodney would miss him.

Elizabeth spotted Kate coming out of her office and cornered her. "Got a minute?"

Kate nodded. "Of course." She backtracked to her office and gestured for Weir to enter. "What's up?"

"I need to talk to someone," Elizabeth replied. "About Major Sheppard. And...about myself." She knew it was time to be honest.

"Okay." Kate sat down on the couch and waited.

Elizabeth sat down in the chair across from her. "This is really more about me. About what I'm feeling."

Kate nodded. "That's good. We haven't really talked about how Lt. Ford's death has affected you."

"That's the thing...I feel guilty about it, but not so much because of Ford's death but because of how my decision has affected John. I know I made the right choice, but it's put this wall up between the major and myself. He blames me for Ford's death."

"Has he said that to you?" Kate countered.

Elizabeth shook her head. "No. And he won't."

Kate's eyes narrowed. "Then that's a pretty big assumption to make, don't you think?"

"Not really." Elizabeth jumped up and began to pace. "Bottom line...I took away John's chance to try and save Lt. Ford. But letting him go back would have been suicide. But I doubt John will ever accept that."

"Have you talked to him about this?"

Elizabeth sighed. "No. He doesn't talk to me much now. Not that we ever had long conversations and most of the time it was always work related anyway. But I miss what we had."

Kate looked intrigued. "Which was?" She prompted.

"I don't know what to call it," Elizabeth confessed. She wasn't really sure herself what it had been. She only knew that she had lost it. From the moment she had first laid eyes on John Sheppard in the control chair, Elizabeth had felt connected to him. As if they were somehow bound together. And for all of their difference and the fact of their stations here on Atlantis, she felt as if they were friends. Just on some level that was different from everyone else. "I miss who John was," Elizabeth clarified. "He's changed."

"Everyone has," Kate said quietly. "It's to be expected. Especially here and given what we face on a daily basis."

Elizabeth closed her eyes and nodded. "I know that...but this is different. I feel as if I've lost a part of myself."

Kate was quiet for a moment then she asked, "And you think that loss is related to Major Sheppard?"

"I came to rely on what he offered me," Elizabeth replied. "He was yin to my yang, so to speak. He challenged me."

"And now?"

Elizabeth opened her eyes and felt a suspicious stinging. "Now he's so detached. So cold and distant. Like he won't let anything touch him. Anyone."

Kate nodded. "You have to realize that a lot has happened to Major Sheppard since he came here. To him more than anyone else."

"I know." And Elizabeth knew better than anyone. If she hadn't asked him to come to Atlantis, John's life would have been so different. She often wondered if he blamed her for that. Lord knew she blamed herself.

"You have to give him time to deal with what's happened," Kate offered.

Elizabeth knew that as well. "I know...but I need him to be one hundred percent. Atlantis needs him. And we can't wait too long. So...I would like you to talk to him. And I'm going to make it clear to John that if he doesn't talk to you, I won't clear him for gate travel."

Kate looked surprised by that. "Are you sure you want to go that route?"

"I'm sure," Elizabeth replied, not letting herself reveal any doubts. She had to believe this was the only way.

"All right then," Kate allowed. "I'll be ready for him anytime."

Elizabeth nodded. "Thank you." She turned to leave.

Kate stood up and touched her arm. "Was there anything else you wanted to talk about?"

"No." Elizabeth smiled as she lied, then she quietly left the room.

John almost stalked into Rodney's lab, and when he realized how angry he was he took a moment to calm himself. Anger was a wasted emotion. No one knew that better than he did. So John revealed nothing of what he felt as he made his way over to the far wall where Rodney was working at a long table. John carefully set a berretta down on the table, making a slight clatter.

Rodney had been focused on his lap top and unaware of Sheppard's presence, so he jumped at the sound and turned to snap, "What the hell are you trying to do? Scare me to death?"

"You forgot this on the mainland," John said quietly, pointing to the gun. "Don't do that again."

"Whatever." Rodney ignored the gun. Truth be told, he hated guns.

John moved the berretta, nudging the laptop over a few inches until Rodney made a grab for it. "Don't forget your gun again," John repeated, his tone still soft but there was a sharp undertone to his words.

Rodney glared at him then he nodded. "Fine. Got it."

"Good." John turned to go. He was tired and he wanted a chance to slip into oblivion for a while. But it wasn't to be.

"Major?" Rodney called after him.

John turned back. "What?"

Rodney stood up to face him. "Can I ask you something?"

"You can ask," John allowed. He wasn't feeling much like talking though and he figured McKay would get the hint pretty quick. Rodney didn't miss much.

"What's wrong with you?" Rodney blurted out. He hadn't meant to phrase it quite like that, but there it was.

John stared at him a moment, then shook his head. "There's nothing wrong with me."

Rodney rolled his eyes "Puhleez. Something is definitely wrong. You're not _you_ anymore."

"Really?" John drawled, as he folded his arms over his chest. He was almost curious as to what Rodney meant. Almost. Still, he would play along for the moment. It wasn't as if he had anything else to do.

"You know...when Gaul and Abrams died you told me that we're at war and people die, but life goes on." Rodney took a step closer to Sheppard, forcing the major to lock eyes with him. "At the time I thought you meant it."

John remembered that moment. Rodney had been wallowing in guilt and John had understood that guilt. So he told Rodney a simple truth and he stood behind it. "I did mean it."

Rodney's eyes flashed with anger. "Then why is this different?"

"What are you talking about?" John shot back, and he felt his own anger stirring but he tamped it down.

"Ford. I'm talking about Ford!" Rodney knew he was shouting and he didn't care. "Ford died and you've changed and life isn't going on, Major. Not you're life anyway."

John resisted the urge to turn and leave. He would face this like he faced everything else. Head on. "I haven't changed, Rodney." He spoke softly, his voice almost a whisper.

Rodney exhaled in frustration. "Why do I even bother? I might as well talk to the wall!" Now he was the one turning away.

"Did you eat supper yet?" John asked, and he almost smiled when Rodney turned back to him with a stunned expression on his face. Like he couldn't believe John had asked him that.

"Yes...I ate. At supper time, just like a normal person does, Major." Rodney held up his left arm and tapped his watch. "In case you haven't noticed, it's almost eight p.m. Atlantis time?"

John just nodded. "I'll take that as a no." With that he turned and walked away, ignoring the fact that he felt disappointed. He heard Rodney call after him but kept walking. He stepped into the nearby transporter and headed straight for his room. He wasn't really hungry. So John took a shower with the intention of going to bed. But once he was dried off he dressed in jeans and a tee shirt and headed for the balcony. He wanted to be alone.

Rodney made himself continue working, but after an hour passed where he got nothing accomplished, he gave up and went in search of Sheppard. He stopped at the messhall and wasn't really surprised that no one had seen the major tonight. So Rodney went to Sheppard's room. No answer. He then contacted Elizabeth who hadn't seen Sheppard either. Then Carson, and finally Teyla.

Feeling warning bells going off, Rodney tried his radio. No response. But Sheppard might have just forgotten it. So Rodney convinced Elizabeth to try the intercom system. They stood side by side at the console as she sent out a message. Then they waited. Five minutes passed with no reply.

Rodney opened his mouth but Elizabeth was way ahead of him.

She tapped her radio. "Sgt. Bates I need you to find Major Sheppard."

"Yes, ma'am," was Bates crackled reply.

"We'll find him, Rodney," Elizabeth said softly.

Rodney nodded, "I know," then he headed off to search on his own.


	6. Chapter 6

Two hours passed with no sign of Major Sheppard. Rodney was worried. And he hated feeling that way. He was searching the sections of Atlantis near their quarters and using a Life signs detector. Which was rather pointless. There were a lot of bodies in this area. Then Rodney saw it, a solitary dot to the east. Determination glowed in Rodney's eyes as he stepped into the nearest transporter.

Fifteen minutes later he was stepping out onto a balcony and he was relieved to see a form curled up near the railing. Relieved and worried. It was cold out here. Stuffing the LSD back into his pocket, Rodney moved the still form and knelt beside it. He knew it was Sheppard, even though he couldn't see his face. Reaching out he touched one shoulder only to find a hand suddenly gripping his throat. Rodney clutched at Sheppard's wrist and tried to suck in air.

John sat up, eyes narrowed, fingers still tight, until he recognized the person he was choking. He released his grip and rose to his feet. "What are you doing here, Rodney?" John asked, and his voice was somewhat hoarse.

"Looking...looking...for you," Rodney replied, then he broke off coughing and rubbing his throat.

"Sorry about that," John said softly, and he meant it. "I didn't realize who it was."

Rodney nodded. "What are you doing out here, Major?"

John stiffened at the question but spoke calmly. "I came here to be alone."

"Bates is heading a team looking for you," Rodney countered.

"Why?" John demanded, feeling a flare of anger. "I'm not lost."

Rodney shrugged. "Unfortunately we didn't know that, seeing as how you don't have your radio. We couldn't contact you."

John glanced at his watch and realized he had been out here for almost five hours. He hadn't meant to fall asleep. And he should have brought his radio. "Did you need me for something? Is there a problem?"

"No problem. We were just...you know...worried about you. I mean...some people were. Elizabeth was." Rodney shut up when he realized he was babbling.

"I'm fine." John spoke firmly.

Rodney studied him a moment. "You're shaking. It's freezing out here. I think you should go see Beckett." As he spoke, he tried to herd Sheppard to the door.

John realized he was cold but he felt almost too numb to feel it. What he could not ignore, however, was the stabbing throb of pain in his temples. Still, he shook his head at Rodney. "I'm fine. I don't need to see Beckett. Just radio Weir to tell her I'm fine. I'm going to my room."

"You're going to see Beckett!" Rodney shot back, even as he moved to intercept the major. 

"McKay..." John let Rodney hear the warning in his drawled out tone.

But Rodney stood his ground. "You're going," he insisted. "And if you refuse I'm going to tell Beckett you're sick and he'll hunt you down."

John could see that Rodney meant what he said, and Beckett actually would hunt him down so he nodded, and regretted the motion as the pain in his temples throbbed more intensely. "Fine. I'll go see Beckett." That said he headed off the balcony, striding off and into the nearest transporter before Rodney could catch up to him.

Elizabeth had been relieved when Rodney radioed her to say that he found Sheppard and the major was on his way to the infirmary. She had then contacted Beckett, asking him to let her know when he was done examining the major so she could come down to speak with him. So here she was, only she made a pit stop in Beckett's office first. "How is Major Sheppard?" Elizabeth asked, when Beckett looked up from his paper work.

Carson shrugged. "He seems well enough for someone who ought to be suffering from a full blown case of hypothermia, damn fool!"

"But he's going to be okay?" Elizabeth prompted.

"Aye." Carson sighed and rubbed a hand over his face as if the wipe away the lines of weariness that were etched into his features. "I've got him under a warming blanket and hooked up to an IV just to play it safe. But I'll be releasing him in the morning, barring any complications. I'm not expecting any though."

Elizabeth nodded, feeling a little weak-kneed with relief. "Good. Is he awake?"

Carson nodded. "At least he was a few minutes ago. He just finished eating and I told him if he wasn't asleep within the hour I was going to sedate him."

"Can I visit with him for a few minutes?"

"Sure. Just keep the lights low and try to be quiet," Carson cautioned. "He's got the mother of all headaches."

Elizabeth nodded. "I won't bother him for long. I just want to check on him and I want to let him know my decision."

Carson winced. "You mean about talking to Kate?"

"That's the one."

"He's not going to like it."

It was Elizabeth's turn to wince, and she knew that Beckett didn't agree with her on this one. But instinct told her this was the right thing to do. That John needed to talk about what had happened and she knew he would never talk to her about it. The major was an extremely private person at the best of times. And now he was hell bent on shutting everyone out. Elizabeth wasn't going to let that happen. Even if he couldn't find it within himself to forgive her, she wasn't going to let him shut himself away from the other people who cared about him. "I think it's for the best," Elizabeth said firmly. Then she patted Beckett on the shoulder before heading out to the main room. She found Sheppard lying on a bed in the far corner where it was relatively private. As she approached she thought he was asleep, but as she reached him he turned his head and offered a slight smile. But it didn't reach his eyes they way it used too. "How are you feeling?" Elizabeth queried.

John didn't respond right away. He studied Elizabeth for a moment, seeing how tired she was. Her eyes were smudged with dark circles and her shoulders were hunched. She usually had perfect posture. And in her eyes was something he didn't want to see. Concern and worry. She was worried about him. John didn't want that. She needed to be focused on Atlantis. "I'm good," he said finally, trying to effuse his tone with a touch of warmth, but he knew he failed by the way she reacted. Like he'd slapped her. Not that he cared.

"Carson tells me you'll be released in the morning," Elizabeth said softly.

"Yeah. Like I said...I'm fine." John said it firmly.

Elizabeth pulled up the stool, feeling like her legs wouldn't hold her any longer. She had passed exhausted days ago. "What happened, John?" she asked, because she really needed to know and she was asking about more than just his disappearance. She wanted to know what had gone wrong between them, but that was something she couldn't ask him about directly.

John knew that there Elizabeth wanted more from him than he could give her. But he held her gaze as he replied. "Nothing happened. I just wanted to be alone for a while and I fell asleep. No big deal."

"If Rodney hadn't found you when he did, you could have gotten very sick," Elizabeth countered, her tone a bit chiding.

"But he did find me, so alls well that ends well." John looked down at his hands, watching as his fingers plucked at the blankets. He wanted her to leave.

Elizabeth sighed, knowing that John wasn't about to give her the answers she needed. "Okay. Just don't go off without your radio again."

John nodded. "I won't."

"One more thing." Elizabeth waited until he looked up to meet her eyes. "I've spoken with Dr. Beckett and he tells me he can clear you for duty in about two weeks. Maybe less."

"Good." John was pleased to hear that.

Elizabeth stood up and pushed the stool aside. She needed to be standing to continue. She needed to feel as if she really was the one in control here. "But I won't clear you for full, active, duty until you speak to Dr. Heightmeyer."

John stiffened. Oddly enough, he wasn't really surprised by this. He said nothing for a long moment, giving himself time to think out what he wanted to say then he replied, "Fine." He could see that he had surprised Elizabeth with that one.

"So...you're okay with it?" Elizabeth countered, uncertain if she had heard him correctly.

"No...I'm not okay with it," John replied firmly. "But it's not like you're giving me a choice."

Elizabeth sighed and rubbed her eyes. They felt like they had sand in them. "I'm just trying to make sure you're all right, John." She winced at the weariness and uncertainty in her tone.

John understood that on one level, but there wasn't anything he was willing to say to make this easier on either of them. Because it wasn't easy and he didn't think it was supposed to be. "I'm fine," he repeated.

"Okay." Elizabeth nodded, feeling defeated somehow. "I'll let Kate know you're ready to talk to her. I can set up the session for as soon as you're released."

"Fine." John never looked up. He just watched his fingers twisting in the blankets, as he tried to ignore the throbbing in his temples. 

Elizabeth swallowed a sigh and walked away.

John listened to her go then closed his eyes. He had never felt so tired.

True to his word, the moment John was released from the infirmary he headed for Heightmeyer's office. No surprise that she was waiting for him with a smile on her face. 

"Come in, Major," Kate invited. "Have a seat where ever you're most comfortable."

"I'll stand for now," John replied, and before she could comment on that he explained. "I've been prone in the infirmary for the past twenty-four hours, so I'm a little stiff."

Kate nodded. "Of course. Are you ready to begin?"

John shrugged. "As ready as I'm going to be."

"You don't want to be here." It was a statement, not a question, and Kate made it as she perched on the edge of her desk.

"No..I don't." John wasn't about to lie about it. "But Dr. Weir didn't give me a choice. It's talk to you or remain grounded and I want to get back to work."

Kate considered his words for a moment then said, "I appreciate your honesty, Major. Or may I call you John."

He wasn't sure how he felt about that but decided it was Heightmeyer's attempt to put things on a more personal level. He would not abort her attempt. Being defensive would not get him out of here any sooner and John knew it. "Call me whatever you like."

"Do you have a preference?" Kate prompted.

"Just don't call me asshole," he shot back, and he was amused by the way she twitched. Then John let her off the hook. "Sorry, I'm feeling a bit caustic today. McKay's rubbed off on me."

Kate smiled at that. "You and Dr. McKay have become rather good friends."

John resisted the urge to sigh. She was trying to trespass into restricted areas. "Look...we both know I'm here to talk about Ford's death. Let's keep to the topic, okay?"

"Okay." Kate was amenable. "But I think the main reason you're here is because you've changed, Major."

"Your point being?" John countered, and he was somewhat amused by the fact that she had chosen to address him by his military rank.

Kate moved away from her desk and settled herself into a nearby chair, grabbing a notebook off the table top and setting it in her lap. "Do you know why you've changed?"

John began pacing the perimeter of the room. "Every single person in Atlantis has changed, doctor. Yourself included. We've changed because of circumstances."

"True enough," Kate allowed. "But do you consider your own, personal, change to be good?"

"I consider it to be a necessary and logical progression," John shot back. He paced over to where she sat and stood before her. "I have changed," he stated. "I've accepted it. The problem doesn't lie with me, doctor. The problem is that certain people don't want to accept the changes. And that's not my problem. Maybe you should talk to them." He was getting angry and stifling it was making his head ache. But John wasn't going to back off. He would let her know the truth. He would let them all know the truth and they could choke on it if they weren't willing to swallow it.

Kate held Sheppard's gaze for a long moment then she looked away and scribbled in her notebook. After a moment she countered, "Do you miss Lt. Ford?"

That shook John a bit because it came out of left field, but he continued with the truth. "Of course I do."

"How do you feel about what happened? About what Dr. Weir did?"

"I'm pissed about it." John went back to pacing. He felt jumpy, like he had an itch under his skin that he couldn't scratch. And the room suddenly felt small and confining. Suffocating.

Kate watched him pace. "Are you pissed at Weir?" She echoed his choice of words back at him.

John suddenly realized that _this_ was the whole point of the session. "Sometimes," he drawled then he moved to stand before her once more. "How I feel about it, and about Dr. Weir does not, nor will it, interfere with me doing my job. And that's the bottom line here. I'm ready to go back to doing my job. If Dr. Weir has insecurities, they're her own. Tell her to deal with them."

"Fair enough," Kate conceded.

"Are we done?" John was already at the door when he asked.

Kate nodded. "We are."

John said nothing more. He simply walked away. And he kept walking.


	7. Chapter 7

Elizabeth stared at Kate in disbelief. "You're telling me that you've cleared Major Sheppard for active duty?"

Kate nodded, adding a warm smile to get her point across. "That's right. So I don't see any reason why you should not do the same."

"But..." Elizabeth shook her head then took a moment before her thoughts into words. "Are you sure he's okay? I mean...after what happened on the balcony..." She left that hanging.

"He fell asleep, Elizabeth." Kate's tone was gentle. "I don't believe he meant to hurt himself nor is he a danger to anyone else. Unless there's something you're not telling me."

Elizabeth almost wished there was, but she shook her head. "No. Nothing. But..."

Kate waited a moment, then prompted, "But...what?"

"But he's just so different now," Elizabeth blurted out, and she winced at how desperate and almost whiny she sounded. Kind of like a little kid to his parent going _My toy is broken...fix it_.

"People change, Elizabeth."

She knew that. "But this isn't the Sheppard I know."

Kate looked thoughtful. "Before this happened, how well did you know Major Sheppard on a personal level? Other that what you've read in his file?"

"Not much," Elizabeth conceded. And she realized how true that was. Other than the fact that Sheppard liked college football and he was reading War and Peace, she pretty much didn't know a damn thing about him. And it shocked her a little. Everything she thought she knew was strictly intuitive.

"I don't think anyone knows much about him. Certainly nothing other than what he's willing to share."

Elizabeth sighed. "Which is pretty much next to nothing."

Kate nodded. "Major Sheppard comes across as very warm and open and charming. He is extremely personable and I think he's a born diplomat. But for all that outward projection, inwardly he is a very private person. He doesn't let anyone in. And I think his trust is hard won. But he trusts you."

"He did...before. But not now." And that hurt Elizabeth to say. It was like a knife stabbing into her gut. "That's just one of the ways in which he's changed, Kate. But I'm still worried."

"He's dealing with what's happened the best way he knows how," Kate countered. "He's not going to talk about it because that's not what he does. But I think he'll do what he needs to do to get through this. Whether we like it or not. And, for the record, I have no doubt but that he would not let himself go back on duty if he thought he might endanger his team. Or anyone else for that matter.

On that point Elizabeth knew she had to concede. Major Sheppard would never put anyone's life in danger. "Point taken," she allowed.

Kate smiled then she leaned in a bit. "Can I be open with you?"

"Of course," Elizabeth invited. "I think that you're taking his behavior too personally."

"He's furious with me, Kate," Elizabeth shot back, and she felt more than a little defensive.

Kate nodded. "Maybe. But he's changed towards everyone, Elizabeth. He's shutting everyone out the same way."

Elizabeth shook her head at that. "It's different with me. But...you're right, he's not allowing anyone to get close to him. But what bothers me the most is that it's like..." She broke off a moment to find the right way to put what she was thinking. "Major Sheppard is a very passionate man. And there was this...fire...in his eyes. This...joy of life and adventure. But that's gone now. And I miss it." As she spoke, Elizabeth realized something and she held up a hand to stall whatever Kate was ready to say to her. "That's my hang up...isn't it?" She didn't need to see Kate's nod to know it was true. "Okay...I'll let him back on duty. As soon as Beckett clears him, Major Sheppard can go through the gate again."

"He'll be happy to hear that," Kate said, as she stood up and headed for the door.

"I'm sure he will," Elizabeth replied. She only wished she felt the same way.

John studied Teyla's eyes as they faced each other. So he was ready for her attack and easily countered. They continued on, sticks clacking together in an almost rhythmic beat, as they alternated attacking each other. In the end Teyla retreated and nodded to him.

"You have learned well, major," she said softly, and with a touch of pride.

"Had a good teacher," John replied. He nodded to her in return then moved to grab the towel from his gym bag. He wiped the sweat from his face then took a long drink of water, hoping that it would ease the ache in his head. John figured maybe he was dehydrated.

Teyla took a drink from her own water bottle, then turned to study Sheppard. "Maybe I speak freely?" she asked.

John winced as he recapped his bottle. He could guess what she wanted to talk about. Ford. But he turned to her and nodded, offering a slight smile. After his talk with Dr. Heightmeyer, John had come to realize that the reason everyone acted like something was wrong with him was because they weren't able to accept the fact that he had changed. So he had decided to make the effort to be the person everyone needed him to be. Then maybe things would get back to what resembled normal.

"Dr. Weir has told me that you will be cleared back to duty soon," Teyla began.

"That's right." John moved to sit on the bench. "Hopefully next week. I just need Beckett to clear me."

Teyla moved to join him on the bench. "I have spoken with Lt. Blake. He introduced himself to me."

John smiled. "Good. I think he'll do well."

"But it will not be the same as before," Teyla whispered.

"No...nothing will ever be the same," John replied. He felt his body tensing up, felt the pain in his temples flare up, throbbing in time with his heart beat. And suddenly the huge room felt small and suffocating. "I have to go," John hissed, rising to his feet and grabbing his bag. He left without looking back, but he could feel Teyla's eyes following him out the door.

John stared at the television screen. He had come to the rec room with his football tape, hoping to distract himself, if only for a couple of hours. But after a few minutes he turned the sound off and just sat there, eyes staring at the screen but not really seeing the game. He knew each play by heart anyway.

"Major?"

John stiffened at the sound of Rodney's voice. He wanted to be alone. But it was pretty stupid to think he could remain alone in the rec room. So he pushed himself upright and managed a smile. "What's up, McKay?"

Rodney moved around the couch and sat down. "Are you busy?" he asked then winced at how stupid that sounded.

"Not really," John drawled, keeping his voice pitched low. The slight headache that had been throbbing in his temples earlier had slid down into the base of his skull and the sound of his own voice, vibrating in his skull, stabbed like a knife. John rubbed the back of his neck as he asked, "Did you need me for something?"

"No." Rodney was blunt. "Look...I'm not much for talking - " He broke off when Sheppard snorted, then narrowed his gaze when he saw the other man wince. "Are you all right?"

John realized he was betraying too much and moved his hand from his neck to rest on his thigh. "I'm good. Are you ready to get back out in the field?"

Rodney made a face. "You haven't been cleared by Beckett yet."

"I will be." Of that John was certain. And he was anxious for that day to come. He needed to be back out there, doing something. He couldn't find ways to distract himself within the confines of Atlantis any longer.

"I'm glad. I kinda...you know...missed it." Rodney realized he was babbling a bit and he didn't care. At least Sheppard seemed willing to talk to him. Too bad he didn't have a clue what to say.

John nodded, without thinking, and instantly regretted it. He hissed and clamped a hand to the back of his neck and closed his eyes, willing the pain to ease.

Rodney watched Sheppard for a moment then he made a decision. "Turn your back to me," he ordered.

"What?" John opened his eyes and blinked at McKay in confusion.

"Turn around." Rodney made a turning motion with one finger pointed downward.

Suspicion clouded John's eyes. "Why?"

Rodney rolled his eyes then, forcibly, turned Sheppard. "Pressure points," he stated, as he tugged the major's hand from his neck and replaced it with his own. Rodney felt around for a moment then dug in hard. "How does that feel?"

"Ow..." John muttered then he held his breath as he realized the pain had eased up. It wasn't gone, but it was better. So he let himself lean into McKay's kneading grip. "That helps," John confessed.

"Of course it does," Rodney replied, unable to keep the smugness out of his voice. Then he let silence fall between them until Sheppard pulled away and turned to look at him. The hazel-green eyes seemed so dark now. So filled with pain and shadows. "What?" Rodney sniped, when he realized Sheppard was watching him intently.

John managed a small smile. "Thanks." It was all he had to give.

Rodney shrugged it off. "So...what are you watching?" he asked, even as he looked at the television screen and could see for himself.

"Same old thing," John drawled, as he settled himself more comfortably. He put his feet up on the makeshift coffee table that Ford had found - and that brought up an instant memory that John immediately snuffed out. He reached for the remote to turn the sound back up then grabbed a pillow and stuffed it under his head.

"Maybe you should check in with Beckett and get some aspirin," Rodney suggested, as he watched Sheppard shifting around. He could tell the pain had eased up, but he could also tell that the major was still hurting.

A part of John appreciated Rodney's concern, and his help, but a bigger part of him wished McKay would just go away and leave him alone now. But all John said was, "I'm good." Because he realized that maybe Rodney needed this. Maybe he needed to be here too and to pretend that everything was okay. So John would give him this. "Want to watch with me?" He pointed to the television screen.

Rodney found himself nodding, even though he hated football and they both knew it. "Hey...any popcorn left?" The last time they had watched this game, Rodney hadn't been able to eat any because of the personal shield he'd accidentally trapped himself with.

"Not sure," John replied. He hadn't bothered to look because he hadn't been hungry.

"Be right back," Rodney said, jumping up. He dashed off to the messhall, but ended up being gone for almost twenty minutes. He hadn't been able to find any popcorn, but he had rustled up some corn chips. So Rodney was munching contentedly as he reentered the rec room, only to freeze when he realized that Sheppard was stretched out and sound asleep. Rodney started to tip toe back out when he spotted the throw blanket on the back of one of the chairs. He grabbed it and spread it over Sheppard then he left the room and headed back to his lab. He had a lot of work to do and it kept him distracted.

John listened as Rodney's footsteps faded away. Once he was sure the scientist was gone, he sat up and reached for the remote and started the game all over again. He started to shove the blanket off only to end up wrapping it around him. He was cold. After the game ended, he folded the blanket and draped it back over the chair then he headed for his room. Once there, John got out his sticks and fell into a fighting stance. Then he practiced the moves that Teyla had taught him. Over and over and over again until his muscles burned and quivered from fatigue.

Only then did John step into the shower. He washed quickly, pulled on boxers and a tee shirt then he slid into bed and closed his eyes. The headache had moved back into his temples. But John was so tired that he slid seamlessly into slumber. And, for once, he didn't dream.


	8. Chapter 8

Elizabeth sat at her desk, one hand fisted under her chin, eyes locked on her computer screen. But she didn't see the report she was supposed to be reading. Instead she kept replaying the past few weeks. Over and over in her head. Wondering, not for the first time, if she had done the right thing. In her head, Elizabeth knew that she hadn't condemned Lt. Ford to death by her decision. She had no doubt, nor did Teyla or Rodney, that Ford had been as good as dead the moment they had left him behind. She also knew that had she allowed Major Sheppard to return for Ford, then he would be dead now as well. The worst of this being that Elizabeth had no doubt but that Sheppard knew he couldn't have saved Ford. But she also knew that there was a part of him that would never let go of the guilt, simply because he hadn't been allowed the chance to try. 

Because she was a realist, Elizabeth also knew that what had happened wasn't the only reason why Sheppard had changed. It had simply been the catalyst. She had even spoken to Kate about this and, realistically, it had only been a matter of time before something like this was going to happen. And yet Elizabeth could not shake the guilt or regret that she was feeling. She couldn't stop blaming herself.

"Elizabeth?"

She jumped at the sound of her name and looked up to see Rodney standing in the doorway.

He looked irritated. "You wanted to see me? Because I have a lot of things I'm in the middle of."

"This won't take long," Elizabeth promised. "Come in and close the door, please."

"What's this about?" Rodney asked, as he did what he was told. But he didn't look happy about it.

Elizabeth closed her lap top then settled herself further back in her chair. Folding her arms over her chest, she focused on Rodney. "I wanted to talk to you about Major Sheppard."

Rodney looked surprised. "Why?"

"Because I know the two of you are friends."

"Not really," Rodney shot back, rather defensively. "We're team mates and he doesn't annoy me as much as some people, but I wouldn't label that as friendship per se."

Elizabeth was almost amused by Rodney's ramblings because they both knew better. But she also knew that Rodney didn't make friends easily, and that he kept people at arm's length as a form of self defense. She also knew that Major Sheppard, for all his outwardly charming affability, put up his own walls to keep people at a safe distance. "I just wanted to ask if you think he's ready to go back out into the field?"

Rodney frowned and was quietly contemplative for a long moment. Then he locked eyes with Elizabeth and said, "You're asking this because he's changed."

"Yes." Elizabeth saw no reason to deny it.

"We've all changed," Rodney said quietly.

Elizabeth nodded. "I know. But this is different."

Rodney shrugged. "I don't know what you want me to say. Look...Major Sheppard likes adventure. He likes exploring and shooting his guns and playing Capt. Kirk. So maybe letting him get back out there doing his _thing_ would be therapeutic."

"Maybe," Elizabeth allowed. Then she smiled. "I've always seen the major as more of a Han Solo type. Or even Indiana Jones. He actually reminds me of a young Harrison Ford at times."

"Whatever." Rodney waved one hand in the air dismissively. "It's more fun calling him Kirk. He hates it."

Elizabeth felt a bit of the tension drain out of her. This felt almost normal. And maybe Rodney was right. Maybe all Sheppard needed was to get back out there to do what he did best. "Thank you, Rodney," Elizabeth said softly. 

He jumped out of his chair. "So we're done?"

"We're done."

"Good." Rodney headed for the door but paused before he opened it and looked back at her. "So when will the major be cleared? I need to know when to be ready and stuff."

Elizabeth shook her head. "I don't know when exactly, but soon. He's with Beckett right now."

Rodney looked a bit surprised but then he shrugged. "Oh...that's good. Good." And with that he yanked the door open and hustled out.

"I hope so," Elizabeth whispered to the empty room.

"How are you feeling, Major?"

John resisted the urge to sigh at the question. Instead he forced himself to smile at Beckett. "I feel good." He would have said great but he figured he shouldn't push his luck. All he wanted was for Beckett to clear him.

Carson nodded as he continued his exam. "Your vitals are all good. How are the ribs?"

"Fine." John stretched and twisted his torso to prove his point. They twinged a bit but were otherwise fine.

"You look a bit tired."

John shrugged. "Stayed up late reading."

Carson reached for the chart on the bedside table and scribbled a few comments. "I'd like to see you gain a few more pounds."

"You've been saying that since we got here," John reminded him.

"Aye." Carson smiled at that. "How you survived in Antarctica for eleven months with zero percent body fat is beyond me."

John was smiling now. "I like the cold."

Carson looked surprised. "I thought you were from California. Hot and sunny all the time."

"I'm an all weather kind of guy," John joked, and he did it because he knew that Beckett needed to hear it. Because this was the kind of banter they usually shared and if he wanted to get cleared he needed to make it seem like everything was the same as it had been. He had to give everyone the illusion they preferred, instead of the truth. So be it. "So...what's the verdict, doc?" John prompted.

"You're cleared for duty, Major," Carson replied. "But I'm very serious about the weight gain. Add an extra meal a day. And get some rest."

John felt relief wash over him as he slid off the exam table. "Will do," he replied. "Thanks." With that he left the infirmary. He wanted to let Dr. Weir know that he was cleared and ready to head back through the gate.

Elizabeth paced in her office. Both Major Sheppard and Dr. Beckett had informed her that the major was cleared for gate travel. Sheppard had been smiling when he told her and Elizabeth had almost allowed herself hope that things would get back to normal. But she was afraid to believe. Right now she was afraid that she had made the wrong choice again. Instinct had twisted her stomach into knots. She could not shake the feeling that something was going to happen when Sheppard's team stepped through the gate tomorrow morning.

"Dr. Weir?"

"Teyla." Elizabeth whirled to see the Athosian woman smiling at her from the doorway. "Did you need something?"

Teyla shook her head. "No. I just came to see if you were all right."

Elizabeth was surprised by that. Or maybe not. Teyla always seemed tuned in to a person's needs. "I'm fine," Elizabeth said firmly.

"You are worried about Major Sheppard," Teyla countered, knowingly.

"Maybe a little," Weir allowed, because she would not lie to Teyla. There was little point in it anyway. Teyla always saw the truth.

Moving into the room, Teyla reached out to touch Elizabeth on the arm. "He will be fine," she said softly. "He will find his way as he always does."

Elizabeth nodded, wanting to believe that. "You still practice with him, don't you?" Teyla had invited Elizabeth to practice as well, but she never seemed to find the time.

"Yes...and he has learned well," Teyla replied. "Do not worry, Dr. Weir. I will watch over Major Sheppard, as will the others."

"I know." Elizabeth did know. Because John Sheppard inspired that kind of loyalty in people. He sure as hell had inspired it in her.

Teyla simply smiled then left the room.

John stood beneath the water spray, letting the heat of it sink into his skin and muscles. He had talked Teyla into a work out after supper and then he had returned to his room to continue practicing. After downing a couple of aspirin. John had brought his own bottle of extra strength Tylenol, hiding it in his back pack. He used it sparingly. But the ache in his temples was persistent and he knew he needed to sleep. Tomorrow he would be stepping through the worm hole again.

The mission was simple enough. A simple exploration to an unknown world. Teyla had never been to M3X-778 so they had sent a MALP through and the place appeared to be deserted. A simple recon mission, just to get them back into the swing of things and to let Lt. Blake find his niche on the team.

An image of Ford popped into John's head and he scrubbed his knuckles over his forehead, hard, willing it to fade away. He _though_t off the water, got out and dried off then he pulled on sweat pants and a tee shirt and climbed into bed. John closed his eyes and focused on relaxing every muscle in his body. A Tai chi exercise learned in his teen years.

Eventually the ache in his temples eased, his muscles unclenched and his body relaxed into the mattress. Only then did John invite the darkness to claim him. And he slept without dreaming.

John felt almost happy as he strolled over to the gate. In just a few minutes he would be going back out into the field with his team. It was only when Lt. Blake moved to stand beside him that John felt his smile fading. It should have been Ford standing there, but that was a thought he could not indulge in. So he shook it away and turned to watch as Teyla and McKay moved to join him. Then he saw Dr. Weir on the stairs and soon she was standing before him.

"Ready to get back out there, Major?" Elizabeth asked.

"More than ready," John replied. He could see the tension in her. It showed in the way she hugged her arms over her chest and was revealed in the frown lines in her forehead and the tightness around her mouth. He wondered if she was thinking about Ford as well, when he saw her gaze flicker over to Lt. Blake.

Elizabeth locked eyes with Sheppard. "Be safe."

He nodded. "Plan on it." With that he turned to look at his team. "Ready?" he asked.

"Ready sir," Lt. Blake replied.

"Ready, Major," Teyla responded.

Rodney was fiddling with his vest pockets, trying to tuck something into one of them, but he nodded in Sheppard's direction. "Yeah...ready."

John looked at Elizabeth.

She stepped back and ordered, "Dial up the gate."

John watched the wormhole form and he felt his smile returning. "Let's move out!" he shouted then he stepped through the event horizon without looking back.

Elizabeth heard the claxons go off and she jumped up and ran over to Peter's console. "What's going on?"

"Early return for Sheppard's team," he replied, as they both watched the gate dialing up. "Looks like they're coming in hot."

"Drop the shield," Elizabeth ordered then she ran for the stairs. She reached bottom as Rodney and Lt. Blake came running though, and she realized she was holding her breath as she waited for Teyla and Sheppard to appear. At least half a minute passed before they cleared the gate. "Raise the shield!" Elizabeth yelled then she exhaled as the gate shut down. She ran to Sheppard. "What happened?"

He looked pissed. "Angry natives," he replied. 

Elizabeth was shocked. "I thought it was deserted?"

"Apparently not," Rodney interjected. "They're very primitive. They threw rocks at us."

"The major took a hit," Teyla commented.

Elizabeth locked eyes with Teyla and saw concern mirrored there. "Call for medical," Elizabeth ordered.

But Sheppard cut her off. "I'm fine!"

"You were hit with a big rock, major!" Rodney shot back, as he stalked over to the major.

"It just glanced off my shoulder," John replied, his voice calm and soft. But the effort took its toll. His body was vibrating with unreleased tension.

Elizabeth wasn't about to let them argue the point here. "I want everyone to report to Medical. Now." She used a tone that brooked no argument, and even though Sheppard glared at her, he acquiesced. He strode off with Rodney on his heels. Elizabeth watched Teyla move to follow them then she put out a hand to stop Lt. Blake. "What happened out there?" she asked, knowing that he would be able to give an unbiased opinion.

Lt. Blake stood at attention as he replied. "Like Dr. McKay said, the natives threw rocks at us. Big rocks. They just popped up out of no where. Major Sheppard ordered us back to the gate and Teyla stumbled and fell. The natives drew closer and started focusing on attacking her. Major Sheppard went back for her and took a solid hit in the shoulder. But it didn't even slow him down."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Elizabeth said. "Go get checked out." As he left she felt a smile curve her lips. He had sounded a bit awed by Sheppard's actions. That wasn't anything new to Elizabeth. She was often awed by the things Sheppard did. By how unselfish and heroic he truly was. But she shook that thought aside as she returned to her office. She would give Beckett time to check everyone out then she would go and find out the damage.

John shifted on his bed, waiting for the pain medication that Beckett had given him to kick it. It was the good stuff after all and John was just sore enough to want its sweet oblivion. As sore as his shoulder was, and given that it was one huge black and purple bruise, it was pretty damn sore. It was the ache at the base of his skull that bothered John more. He blamed Rodney for the headache. The man hadn't shut up the entire time they were in the infirmary.

"Major?"

John recognized Elizabeth's voice and considered pretending to be asleep. But he knew that would be the coward's way out of a confrontation and he was no coward. So he sat up and called out, "Come in!" while _thinking_ on the lights.

The doors slid open and Elizabeth stepped inside. Once they were closed behind her she asked, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm good. Just a little sore. Nothing to keep me from going back out." John wanted to make sure she understood that.

"Well...I spoke with Carson and he said you could use a few days of rest," Elizabeth countered. "He said you're likely to be sorer in the morning than you are now."

John would have shrugged but resisted the urge. He knew it would hurt like hell to do so. "Guess I can handle a few days off." Not that he would like it. But he would deal with it, it wasn't like she was giving him a choice. Just like before. He winced, inwardly, at that thought. He was still angry with Elizabeth for what she had done, but John hated feeling that way. He just wanted to move past it. She was the one making it hard to do. She wouldn't accept the fact that things had changed between them. So he played the game of letting her believe otherwise. "Maybe I'll catch up on all the reports I've been ignoring," John continued, letting a smile curve his lips. He wanted her to say her piece then leave.

Elizabeth moved closer and studied him. "Are you sure you're all right, John?"

"I'm fine." He held her gaze, never wavering from its intensity. Let her look. All she would see was what she wanted to see anyway. "Just tired."

"Okay...I'll let you rest then." Elizabeth turned towards the door but looked unsettled.

John caught the look on her face. "Did you want something specific?" he called after her.

Elizabeth turned back and shook her head. "Not really. I just wanted to see for myself that you were all right."

"As you can see...I'm just fine." John would never let her see anything else.

"Good." With that Elizabeth keyed the door open and walked away.

John waited for the doors to close then he dimmed the lights and laid back down. He could feel the pain killer kicking in and he closed his eyes and let himself drift away. But it wasn't long before he started dreaming.

He was back on the planet. He went back to bring Ford home only all that was left of the Lieutenant was a desiccated husk. And when John knelt down and reached out to retrieve Ford's dog tags, the husk shattered into ashes and John was horrified to see that he was covered in them.

He came awake with that image in his head. So clear and vivid that he brought the lights up to checks his hands. He could feel the coldness of the ashes on his skin but there was nothing there. John shook his head, wanting to shake away the memory but all he managed to do was send a spike of pain shooting through his temples. Then his stomach twisted and he was off the bed. He made it to the bathroom just in time to be violently sick.

John stayed, curled up in the corner of the bathroom, for the rest of the night.


	9. Chapter 9

John was cleared within three days and they went on another mission. It was supposed to be an overnighter, but twelve hours later they were in the jumper and on their way back home.

Rodney was in the co pilot seat and bitching at Sheppard. "You played bait for the Wraith," he snarled.

"I'm not having this conversation with you, Rodney," John replied. And he promptly tried to tune Rodney out. He was tired and sore and he wanted nothing more than to go home, down a double dose of aspirin then sleep for a week. Sleep without dreaming.

"Yes...you are," Rodney shot back, and he glared at Sheppard's profile. "You played Wraith bait, Major. Wraith...bait." Rodney spoke slowly, as if Sheppard was too dense to understand him otherwise.

John swallowed a sigh and turned to look at McKay. "I did what I had to do," he said quietly.

Rodney shook a finger at him. "You made yourself a fucking target!"

"Blake was down and about to have the life sucked out of him!" John snapped back, and now he was getting pissed. So he glared at Rodney. "I distracted the Wraith until you and Teyla got there." John took one hand off the controls to rub the back of his neck. His headache had slid into the base of his skull and it was all Rodney's fault. "Look...you got there and Teyla stunned the ugly bastards and Blake and I are fine. Happy ending all around. So let it go, McKay." That was what John was going to do. Let it go and move on.

"You really don't get it, do you?" Rodney stared at Sheppard in stunned disbelief.

John did sigh this time, just a little, and patronized Rodney by asking, "Get what?"

Rodney gritted his teeth then replied, "If Teyla and I had shown up just ten seconds later...you'd be dead. Dead! Does that compute in the least, major? Or did your brains get scrambled and bleed out your ears when that Wraith knocked you into orbit?"

"You're the one who doesn't get it, Rodney," John countered, with a calmness that was almost eerie, even to himself. "Your timing was excellent and Lt. Blake and I both thank you. Now let it the fuck go." John's voice was still soft and calm, but he was shaking inside. Dampening his anger made his head hurt worse and John really wanted to down a handful of Tylenol then pass out in his room.

"Bastard!" Rodney hissed then he got up before he said anything more and stalked to the back of the jumper. He dropped down next to Teyla on the bench, where she was sitting and keeping an eye on Lt. Blake, who was dozing. The marine had suffered quite a shock from his first, up close, confrontation with a Wraith. "He okay?" Rodney asked, pointing at Blake's recumbent form.

Teyla nodded. "He is fine."

Rodney sighed. "Good. Do me a favor and go talk some sense into Sheppard. Damn fool!"

"Perhaps it would be best to simply let it go, Dr. McKay," Teyla countered. "We are all alive and returning home. Perhaps it is enough."

"You would think so, wouldn't you?" Rodney replied then he fell silent.

John had heard the exchange and he felt relief wash over him. Teyla had diffused the situation for him and he would thank her for that later. For now John was focused on getting them back home. They were ten minutes away from the gate.

He didn't realize that the hand he used to rub his neck was shaking.

John sat on the infirmary bed, letting Beckett do his thing. He answered every question honestly, admitted to being a little sore and accepting three Tylenol for his headache. So he figured he was well on his way to slipping out to freedom, when McKay spoke up.

"He got knocked about twenty yards by a Wraith and landed hard," Rodney stated. "Very hard." He, pointedly, avoided Sheppard's gaze.

"Really?" Carson looked at the major anew. "Why don't you slip your shirt off and let me have a look?"

John resisted the urge to glare at McKay, instead he smiled at Beckett. "I'm fine. Really. No new injuries, just a bit sore...like I said. All I need is a shower and about ten hours of sleep. All of which I can get started on if you let me out of here."

Carson narrowed his gaze, studying Sheppard a moment, then he nodded. "All right then. But if I find out you've been keeping things from me, I will haul your ass in here and strap you to a bed so fast..."

"I get it." John put up a hand to stop him from further clarification. Gingerly, he slid off the bed, still not looking at Rodney. "Later," John said to Beckett then he grabbed his jacket and walked out of the infirmary. He could hear Rodney bickering with Carson and heard his name mentioned, but he didn't care.

Five minutes later, John was in his room. He took his shower then stretched out on the bed, waiting for the Tylenol to kick in. After a while he dozed off, but even in sleep he knew how restless he was. How helpless he was against dreaming. And dream he did.

He could see Lt. Blake, downed by a Wraith, the life sucker looming over Blake with his arm pulled back, ready to strike. So John ran up and shot him, and that made him turn around and focus on him, which was fine. Until John caught sight of the body on the ground. It wasn't Blake, it was Ford. John took a step closer, staring at the sunken, aged, face of his 2IC._ Ford_...John whispered.

Ford stared at him with dead eyes. _You didn't come back for me, sir._

With a jolt, John came awake, feeling his heart thudding in his chest and the clamminess of cold sweat on his skin. He sat up, biting back a moan as pain stabbed in his temples. Easing off the bed he went into the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. As he reached for a towel he heard a knock on the door. John grimaced. He could guess who it was. But he tossed the towel aside and went into the other room and_ thought_ the door open.

Rodney looked startled but then he walked right in. He opened his mouth to speak.

John cut him off. "I don't want to argue with you," he said, flatly.

"No arguing," Rodney allowed. "There's no point in it, is there? You won't listen anyway."

"Then why are you here?" John countered, because he really wanted to be alone.

Rodney sighed and ran a hand over his face. "I have no clue," he confessed.

John wasn't sure how to respond to that. "Rodney --"

"I just wanted to make sure you're okay." That all came out in a rush then Rodney stood there, shuffling his feet and looking nervous.

"I'm okay," John said softly. What else was he going to say? They all lived with the lie. Swallowing his own sigh, John lifted a hand and kneaded the back of his neck. His headache had slipped down to the base of his skull again.

Rodney was watching. "Another headache." It was a statement more than a question.

John locked eyes with him. He wasn't getting into this. "It's been a long day, Rodney. I'm tired."

"I know." Rodney just stared back for a long moment then he turned and strode over to the door. "Sorry I bothered you." With that he was gone.

"Dammit!" John felt a stab of guilt. He knew that Rodney was just trying to be a friend. But he didn't want people to care about him. He just wanted them to move on and get past this shit. Knowing that he wouldn't be able to sleep now, John grabbed his sticks and started to practice, but the movement made his head hurt so much he felt nauseous. So he tossed them aside and left his room, heading for the balcony.

The night air was cool, but not cold, and he'd had the presence of mind to shrug into his jacket so John enjoyed the soft breeze against his face. He stood at the railing for a long time, letting the images that had been haunting him flitter through his mind. Sumner, the faceless bodies he had lost count of as he had listened to the Genii soldiers splat against the gate shield. Abrams and Gaul. Ford. They weren't the only faces. Steve and Bob were dancing in the shadows as well and John shivered for a moment, feeling as if they had slithered across his skin, leaving behind icy cold trails of red blood mixed with blue that he couldn't see, only feel.

He was tired of death.

Folding his arms across his chest, John turned and walked back inside. He walked the corridors of Atlantis, passing by the living, but only seeing the dead.

Eight days later they came through the gate, hot. Rodney was equal parts terrified and pissed off, both of which were responsible for the way his legs were shaking, but he willed them to keep him upright, given as he was supporting Sheppard. The major's right are was slung over Rodney's shoulder, because an arrow had pierced Sheppard's left shoulder, all the way through, just under the collar bone.

"Close the gate!" John yelled, even though it made both his head and his shoulder hurt.

"Get Beckett!" Rodney shouted, even as he steered Sheppard over to the steps and tried to settle him down. But Sheppard was pulling away, and Rodney realized he was looking over at Teyla and Lt. Blake, making sure his team was okay. Rodney could appreciate that, given the fact that the arrow in Sheppard's shoulder had been meant for him. Rodney had even seen it coming only to find the major stepping in front of him at the last minute. As if in slow motion, Rodney had watched him fall back and had barely had the presence of mind to catch him. Then Sheppard had tried lurching to his feet and Rodney had helped him. Then they had run for the gate and now they were safe. But Rodney was still shaking, and he was still pissed. "Sit down!" he barked at Sheppard.

Elizabeth had run down the stairs and she was reaching out to Sheppard. He pulled back and she lowered her arm. "Beckett will be here in a minute. Sit down, Major."

John didn't want to sit down. He knew if he sat down he wouldn't get back up. But his legs buckled and he felt hands catching him and everything went black for a moment and when it shaded back to gray and he opened his eyes, he was lying down with Beckett looming over him. 

"You're going to be okay, major," Carson said firmly. Then he ordered his team to move out.

John closed his eyes and let himself fade away.

Rodney watched them go. He wanted to go with them, to make sure that Sheppard was going to be alright, but there was something he needed to do first. He turned to look at Elizabeth. "Can we talk? Now."

"Okay." She was still watching the med team and the gurney, but once they were out of sight she turned to Rodney and nodded. "My office." She climbed the stairs with Rodney on her heels. Once there she shut the door and gestured for Rodney to sit.

He remained standing. Locking eyes with Elizabeth, Rodney stated, "You have ground Major Sheppard." He could see he had surprised her, although the only physical evidence was the way her eyes went wide for a second.

Elizabeth sat down at her desk then asked, "Why?"

"Because he's suicidal! That's why!" Rodney was practically yelling but he couldn't help it. Then his legs turned to rubber as the shock of what had happened finally hit him and he collapsed into the nearest chair. Rodney looked down at his hands where they lay in his lap. They were shaking. "It's supposed to be me on the gurney."

"What? What do you mean?" That got Elizabeth's attention and she got up and came around the desk to face him.

Rodney kept his eyes on his hands as he told her what happened. "He stepped in front of me and took the arrow. That's what he does now. He thinks he's a goddamned human shield. It's what he did with Teyla, and last time with Lt. Blake."

Elizabeth closed her eyes for a minute, as if processing the information. "He's protecting his team, Rodney. That doesn't make him suicidal."

"You weren't there all those times," Rodney argued. But he couldn't really explain it to her. It was all about the look in Sheppard's eyes when he did it. The cold determination that couldn't quite blot out the shadows and the pain. "You have to ground him, I'm serious. If you don't the odds are he'll be dead next mission."

"Given his injury, I don't think the major will be going back out for a few weeks," Elizabeth said gently.

Rodney looked up at that and let her see how serious this was. "Great, then he has a few weeks to live. Will you break the news or shall I? Not that he'll care." Rodney was angry enough now that he had stopped shaking. He jumped to his feet. "You do what you want, Elizabeth. You'll have to live with what happens." With that he stormed out of the room.

Elizabeth watched him go then she tapped her radio. She talked to both Teyla and Lt. Blake, asking them if they thought Major Sheppard was suicidal. Putting that word out there shook them both a bit, as it did her. Ultimately both Teyla and Lt. Blake believed that saying Sheppard was suicidal was too extreme. But they did concede that he was putting his own life at risk in his attempt to protect them.

After contacting Beckett and learning that Sheppard would be spending a few days in the infirmary, but that he would make a full recovery, Elizabeth took a long walk. She ended up in the infirmary, sitting in a chair next to Sheppard's bed. Her eyes never left his face as she waited for him to wake up.


	10. Chapter 10

_He was walking through a mist that was cold and swirled around him, making him shiver as it brushed over his skin and clung - damply - to his clothes. But he kept walking, kept searching. He wasn't going to leave anyone behind._

_"DAX! MITCH!" He shouted as loud as he could and his voice echoed back at him, mockingly. He ignored it and continued on, but he couldn't see a foot in front of his face between the mist and the darkness. Without warning he stumbled, falling to his knees, putting one hand out to catch himself and he felt something warm and slick against his skin and when he found his balance he lifted his hand and stared at the blood that was smeared across his palm. John then scrambled back as he stared at the fragmented body pieces floating in a river of red. He swallowed back a gag reflex and made to turn away when a glint of something silver caught his eye. He reached down and picked up the set of dogtags._

_To John's surprise they were blank. No names or information etched into them. But he knew what they represented. All the dead. Dax and Mitch and Sumner and Ford. John curled his bloody fingers over the tags, feeling the edges bite into his skin. ___

_He had failed them all. _

_"Major Sheppard..."_

_He turned and saw the Wraith standing there. Steve and Bob and the ten thousand year old sonofabitch who had killed Gaul and Abrams. Even those deaths were his fault. So much death. So much darkness._

_John was tired. He let his weapon fall to the ground and a smile curved his lips as he strode forward to meet his fate. He didn't flinch as taloned fingers dug into his chest. He didn't feel any pain as they fed off him. There was only darkness as his body convulsed. He drew in one last shuddery breath then exhaled slowly. ___

_Then he heard someone calling his name._

"MAJOR! JOHN! Dammit...don't you do this to me!"

He recognized the voice. Dr. Weir. She sounded terrified and angry. John didn't know why. He didn't want to know. He wanted to sleep.

"Give me room!"

He knew that voice too. Beckett. John felt something pressed over his face, felt his lungs expanding and filling and it almost hurt to exhale and then there was a brightness and a the white-hot burn of pain and he gagged for a moment, curling into himself then hands were on him, the thing on his face was removed and he was guided over to his side as he retched.

"He's going to be okay," Carson was saying.

John had his doubts about that, and he said as much, or rather croaked it, as soon as he was able to breathe again without gagging.

Carson smiled at him even as he wiped Sheppard's face with a damp cloth. Then he held out a glass of water with a straw sticking out of it. "Take a sip...just a wee one. There…is that better?"

John resisted the urge to point out the fact that he wasn't five years old. It would have taken too much energy to say all that. Instead he nodded then he blinked hard to bring everything into sharp focus. He turned his head to see Weir lurking beside him. "What happened?" He asked her because he knew she would give him the simple facts.

"You got hit with an arrow."

"Right." John remembered that now.

Elizabeth grabbed a stool and sat down. "That was one hell of a dream you were having, Major."

John stared at her for a moment, not understanding what she meant. "Dream?"

"You started convulsing, just before you threw up," Elizabeth explained. "One minute you were asleep and the next I thought..." she broke off, unwilling to continue.

"You scared the hell out of Dr. Weir," Carson interjected. He was taking Sheppard's vitals and looked pleased. "In truth you just had a normal, if a bit of a delayed, reaction to the anesthesia." At the major's surprised look he explained. "It took a bit of surgery to get the arrow out. But you're going to be fine." Carson patted his good shoulder. "Just rest and do as you're told and you'll be out of here in a couple of days."

That was good to hear, so John nodded. "I'll behave," he promised. Not that he actually had a choice in the moment. He felt weak and worn out, not that he would admit to it.

Carson grinned. "See that you do. If you need anything hit the call button." He watched Sheppard nod again then he looked at Weir. "Don't tire him out."

"I won't," she promised. The moment they were alone Elizabeth asked, "How do you feel?"

"I've been better," John allowed. He shifted a bit, wanting to test his limitations. His left shoulder twinged, but he could tell that Beckett had plugged him into the good drugs before he left, so the pain was bearable. He just felt tired. Tired and a bit curious. "Why did you think I was dreaming?" John asked because he now remembered what he had been dreaming about. He told himself it was drug induced and had every intention of just letting it go.

Elizabeth leaned forward, her eyes locking with Sheppard's. "You were muttering Ford's name and you were very restless. I was just about to call Beckett when you started convulsing."

John nodded. "Yeah...well, you heard Beckett. Just a normal reaction and all that."

"Maybe...but you know if you want to talk --"

"There's nothing to talk about," John interjected, his tone more biting than he intended it to be. He shifted again, trying to get comfortable then he remembered something. "Is Rodney okay?"

Elizabeth nodded and offered a tight smile. "Yes...he's fine. Thanks to you."

That made John feel better. "Good."

"So I understand that arrow you took was meant for Rodney," Elizabeth said quietly.

"He just needs to learn to duck." John could feel the intensity of her gaze and it shook him a little. He didn't want her looking so closely.

Elizabeth nodded. "It could have killed you."

John managed a passable smile. He felt as if she were testing him somehow and he intended to pass. "It didn't," he pointed out. "But it would have killed Rodney. It would have nailed him right through the heart."

"Thank you, for what you did, John." Elizabeth sounded sincere.

"I did my job." John fought off a yawn and let his eyes slide closed, hoping she would get the hint and leave. Whatever Beckett had given him was kicking in full force and John wanted to succumb to it. He wanted to sleep, wrapped in darkness, without dreaming.

Elizabeth stood up and put the stool back where she got it from. "You always do," she stated then she gave a little nod. "Get some sleep."

John gave a sleepy nod, his eyes still closed. "Will do." He listened to her footsteps as she walked away, then he let himself drift into oblivion.

Two days passed with relative ease for John. He had visits from Teyla and several other people, with Rodney conspicuously absent. Which didn't bother John as much as it might have in the past. He felt ambivalent about seeing Rodney. John knew that McKay was pissed at him, he just couldn't figure out why. Ultimately it was more conducive to his being able to rest, so that he could get out of the infirmary, not having Rodney around. In fact, John hoped to be getting out tomorrow morning and Beckett seemed pleased enough with his progress that it was a viable possibility.

Which is exactly why Rodney decided to pop up even as John was thinking about him.

"How do you feel, ajor?" Rodney asked, his tone quietly calm. Too calm.

"I'm good." John noticed the fact that Rodney was almost - eerily - still. McKay was usually a body in motion.

Rodney nodded. "Sorry I didn't come sooner. We had power fluctuations with the gate."

John was surprised to hear that. "But everything's okay?"

"Of course." Rodney looked irritated by that for a moment then he smoothed his face back into a neutral expression. "Carson tells me you're being released tomorrow."

"That's right." John sensed there was more coming that he was not going to like hearing.

Rodney shifted closer. "I wanted to thank you...for saving my life."

John shrugged, wincing only a bit at the pull in his shoulder. "Just doing my job, Rodney."

"Really?" Rodney's mouth curved into a thin smile. "So it's your job to try and get yourself killed on each and every mission we go on?"

"No." John felt a flare of anger but dampened it. He would not let Rodney get him riled. "It's my job to keep you and the other members of my team alive. To bring you back safe." _To bring you back_ echoed in his head.

Rodney's eyes flashed with anger. "Bullshit!" he snapped. "You don't give a damn about living anymore, major! You're just making yourself a target hoping you'll get lucky and the next time YOU won't come back through the gate."

John was stunned by Rodney's words and by the anger behind them. "Don't go there, Rodney," he gritted out between clenched teeth. "You don't know what you're saying."

"Yes...I do." With that Rodney turned and stalked away.

It took all of John's will power not to get out of bed and follow him. In fact his hand was on his IV but he stilled it. Closing his eyes, John made himself relax. Rodney was just upset about his own close brush with death. He'd get over. And that was what John told himself as he tried to drift into sleep. But every time he started to slip into darkness, he kept seeing Ford's face.

"Beckett told me that Sheppard would be able to go back out in about a week!"

Elizabeth looked up from her laptop to see Rodney looming over her desk. "That's right," she conceded. "Carson said he's healing beautifully, and he doesn't foresee any complications."

Rodney shook his head. "You can't let him go back out there. He's going to die."

"Premonitions, Rodney?"

"Facts!" Rodney rubbed a hand over his face and made a visible effort to calm down. "If you let Sheppard go back out, he's not coming back. How much clearer do I have to get to make you understand?"

Elizabeth sighed. "Rodney...I think Major Sheppard is just fine. You're reading too much into what happened."

Rodney looked stunned. "Really? Fine." He turned on his heel and strode out of the room, his body vibrating with anger.

Elizabeth went back to her laptop but gave up trying to concentrate. It was going to be a long day. Even so, she couldn't stop thinking about what Rodney had said.

Rodney cornered Beckett in his office. He closed the door and didn't mince words. "You need to ground Major Sheppard."

Carson sighed. "Rodney...I spoke with Dr. Weir --"

Waving an impatient hand, Rodney cut him off. "Did the major tell you about his headaches?"

"Headaches?" Carson echoed, a frown line forming between his eyebrows.

Rodney rolled eyes. "Did I stutter? I think not. Yes, Carson...headaches. Bad ones. And he threw up while we were on the mission."

Carson's eyes went wide at that. "After he got hit with the arrow?"

"No...when we first landed." Rodney began to pace. "For the record you can confirm everything I'm saying with Teyla. She saw him get sick and she knows about the headaches."

"Why the hell didn't I know about them?" Carson snapped.

Rodney shrugged. "Guess Sheppard was keeping it from you. So...don't you think you'd better keep him grounded?"

Carson sighed again. "Rodney...I'm not happy about the headache thing, but I'm not jumping the gun until I talk to Major Sheppard and run some tests."

"Fair enough." Rodney stopped pacing. "But I don't feel comfortable going out on missions with a CO who could keel over without warning. I'm just saying." And with that he was gone, leaving a disgruntled doctor in his wake.

John was ready to get out of the infirmary. Chomping at the bit ready. He had done everything asked of him and he knew he was progressing nicely. His shoulder was still sore but he was able to use it with caution and John felt confident that he would be ready to go back through the gate by the end of next week. All he needed now was Beckett's clearance and he would be good to go.

Carson chose just this moment to enter the infirmary, Sheppard's chart tucked under his arm. "Ready for you exam, major?" he asked, his voice a bit sharp.

"Ready." John offered a smile and was a bit surprised when Beckett glared at him. "Is something wrong, doc? You look a bit peeved."

"I am a bit peeved as you put it," Carson allowed, as he took Sheppard's pulse.

John was a bit curious as to why. "Did something happen?"

Carson shushed him for a moment while he checked the major's heart and lungs. Slinging his stethoscope around his neck when he was done, he locked eyes with the major and said, "Tell me about your headaches."

"Headaches?" John echoed, and he felt a bit floored by Beckett's attitude. The doctor wasn't making a statement so much as he was ordering John to fess up.

"Did you throw up on the mission?" Carson shot back, and he was watching Sheppard through narrowed eyes, gauging his reaction.

John realized what this was about. He knew the only person Beckett could have gotten the information from was Rodney. Anger welled up in John and he didn't try to hide it. "It's no big deal!" he snapped.

Carson glared at him. "Did you throw up or not? And don't lie to me, Major."

"I got nauseous, I think it was lunch related." John was careful to keep the edge off his anger. He kept his tone flat. But the moment he was out of here he had every intention of confronting Rodney.

"I spoke with Rodney and Teyla, they both confirmed that you're suffering from headaches," Carson stated. "How long have you had them?"

It surprised John to learn that Teyla was aware of his headaches. But maybe it shouldn't have surprised him. She saw too much and he would have to remember that. He would have to be more careful as to what he revealed to her and to everyone else. "Look...it's just a headache. I'm fine. Rodney is overreacting."

Carson folded his arms over his chest and did not look the least bit impressed. "Answer the question, Major. How long have you had them?"

"For a while." John knew how to incorporate the truth into a lie. He gave Beckett what he wanted without giving him exactly what he asked for.

"I'm going to run some tests, although I have an inkling as to what might be causing them." Carson looked grim.

John shook his head, which was a mistake. The headaches were always there of late, but the ache had been below the surface. Until now. Now it was starting to thump in his temples full force. He blamed that on Rodney. "You told me I could get out of here today."

Carson shrugged. "Aye. But that was before I learned about the headaches. Be a good lad and the tests won't take long and maybe I'll still let you leave. But you're grounded until further notice." With that he bustled out.

"Sonofabitch!" John cursed beneath his breath. He knew that the grounding was the whole point of Rodney telling Beckett about the headaches. What pissed John off so much was that he couldn't figure out why Rodney wanted him grounded. But the moment he was out of here, he was going to find out.

Elizabeth was working on translating some Ancient text when Rodney appeared in the doorway. She welcomed the break, but she was a bit startled by the look on his face. He looked...sad. "Come in," Elizabeth invited. When he did so, closing the door behind him, she asked, "Are you okay?"

Rodney sighed then folded his arms over his chest. "Not really. I just...I wanted you to know that since you wouldn't do anything about Major Sheppard, I did."

"What did you do, Rodney?" Elizabeth asked, alarm bells going off in her head.

"I made sure he got grounded. I think. I mean...I'm sure Carson will ground him once he runs his tests." Rodney broke off and shook his head at himself. "Bottom line is that I took care of things. The major can hate me if he wants, but at least he'll be alive to do so." Rodney turned to leave.

Elizabeth called him back. She needed to be sure of this. "Rodney." She waited until he was facing her then asked, "Do you really believe Major Sheppard is suicidal?" Because that was something Elizabeth was having trouble wrapping her mind around. He valued life too greatly. All life. Even his own. She couldn't be wrong about that.

Rodney rubbed a hand over his face, looking older than his years and unutterably weary. "Not consciously," he replied, after a long moment of silence. "But he's become reckless in regards to his own life. He's focused only on saving everyone else. On protecting us. He doesn't care if it puts him in danger."

"I see," Elizabeth said quietly. And suddenly she did. She understood that Sheppard would make the ultimate sacrifice to make up for what he considered to be a failure. He hadn't kept his promise to Ford, so he would do whatever it took to make sure no one else ever got left behind. "Thank you, Rodney," She told him.

"Yeah." Rodney looked miserable as he shuffled out.

Elizabeth tried to go back to her translations but a beep on her ear piece interrupted her. "Weir here."

Carson's voice came echoing back. "Can I see you in my office? It's about Major Sheppard."

"Be right there," Elizabeth replied, already rising to her feet. As she stepped into the nearest transporter, Elizabeth felt a headache of her own throbbing in her temples.


	11. Chapter 11

Elizabeth was anxious as she entered Beckett's office. "So...how is Major Sheppard?" she asked, getting straight to the point.

Carson looked up from his computer screen. "Oh...he's doing well, healing nicely."

"I thought...okay." Elizabeth was a bit confused. "Why did you call me down here then?"

"Oh...it's about grounding Major Sheppard." Carson was smiling, but it was sharp-edged.

Elizabeth nodded. "Rodney told me he informed you of the headaches. I assume that's what you mean?"

Carson sighed. "More or less. He's grounded for a bit anyway with his shoulder. I was going to let him back on light duty, but I'd like to give him a couple of weeks to just heal. Stress free in every way. I think he's suffering from tension headaches. He's pushing himself too hard in every way."

"So what can you do to help?"

"He needs to relax. To find a way to deal with the stress." Carson rubbed a hand over his tired eyes. "I wish there was an easy solution."

Elizabeth winced at that. "So do I. Carson...did Rodney tell you about his theory regarding Major Sheppard?"

It was Carson's turn to wince. "You mean...that he's sub consciously suicidal?"

"That's the one. Any merit in that?" Elizabeth wanted him to say no. She - silently - begged him to say no.

"Perhaps a wee bit," Carson replied. "But the man isn't suicidal in the sense of wanting to outright die. He's projecting his fear of losing people. His fear of his inability to save them. The major is carrying a lot of guilt. Add that to everything that's happened since he came here, on top of what he'd gone through back on earth...that's one hell of a heavy load for any one person to be burdened with."

Elizabeth's eyes had gone wide as she listened to Beckett. "Closet psychologist?" she teased.

Carson laughed. "No. But the human psyche is intriguing in that it's connected to how are bodies react physically. Mind over matter is a true enough statement."

"Like with his tension headaches?" Elizabeth was catching on.

"Like that," Carson confirmed.

Elizabeth felt like they were finally making some progress. "So...what do we do?"

Rubbing the back of his neck, Carson shrugged. "Not a lot we can do. It's up to the major. But I will keep him grounded for the time being."

"Would sessions with Kate help him?"

"Not if he's not willing to talk to her."

That wasn't what Elizabeth wanted to hear. "Then what? I need Sheppard back to one hundred percent, Carson. We all need him."

Carson nodded. "Aye...I know that. You can suggest, strongly, that he talk with Kate. Maybe she can find a way to help him."

"Okay...I'll do that." Elizabeth headed for the door. "Have you told him he's grounded?"

"Not exactly." Carson looked a bit guilty as he shifted in his chair. "I told him you'd be around to talk to him."

Elizabeth sighed. But this was her burden to bear. "I'll tell him the good news," she said softly then she slipped out of the room.

John started running again. His shoulder was too sore to work with the sticks so the moment Beckett released him from the infirmary, he started walking. That was three days ago. Today he felt up to running. He needed the push to his body. He needed a way to release the tension and anger. Mostly anger. 

Just before being released from the infirmary, Elizabeth had come in to inform him that he was grounded, indefinitely. John knew why. His headaches. He was a step ahead of them. He knew they could be a problem in the field so he would find a way around them. Build up his resistance to them. Whatever it took. And when Weir suggested he speak with Dr. Heightymeyer, John had agreed with her. The look of surprised on Elizabeth's face had been priceless. She didn't get it. He wanted to be back out there. He wanted to be able to do his job.

So John talked with Kate. Not that it helped. He told her what she wanted to hear. What he had already confessed too. He missed Ford. He suffered nightmares, he just didn't give her details. He had a lot of regrets and he carried a lot of guilt. Normal reactions. They danced around a few issues then she came up with something he actually took interest in. A book of yoga exercise meant to help a person relax. A body/mind/spirit kind of thing. He'd skimmed through it last night. Teyla had come to visit and she had picked up the book. John told her about it and she had told him about a practice called Kee-ta. It was almost more a religious belief, as John understood it. A way to center ones self in all ways. To focus inward as it were. Something John had always been able to do in the past. In his own way. But now he was willing to try something new. If it got him back out where he belonged.

He stopped running and stretched his shoulder. It was sore but doable. A quick glance at his watch and John realized he was going to be late meeting Teyla in her quarters. Today she was going to teach him the beginnings of the Kee-ta. John didn't want to be late.

For two weeks John kept mostly to himself. He ate meals on off-hours. The rest of the time he spent with Teyla, learning more of the Kee-ta then alone, practicing what he learned. After a while he started working out with he sticks again and applying what he had learned from about centering his focus and melding his body/mind and soul into practice. He was surprised to find that the sticks in his hand became an extension of his arm. And today, when he and Teyla practiced for the first time since he'd been hit with the arrow, John saw the results of his work. He took her down with ease.

"You have learned well," Teyla said as she accepted his hand to pull her up. She was smiling at him and there was a touch of pride in her voice.

"I had a good teacher." John was pleased. They fell into a stance again and in the end he took her down once more. She didn't take him down even once. They were evenly matched now and he was beginning to surpass her.

Teyla seemed pleased, but a bit uncertain. "You must not lose focus of what matters most, major," she said softly.

John frowned at her words, turning to face her. "What do you mean?"

"You have detached yourself from everyone in many ways," Teyla replied. "What I have taught you was meant for those whose fate it is to walk alone. That is not your fate. There are so many who care about you. Do not lose sight of that."

"I have to go." John had no response for her. Nothing that she would want to hear, anyway. He stuffed his sticks in his gym bag and headed out. He had to shower and meet with Heightmeyer.

Another three days passed and John had yet to see McKay. He knew Rodney was avoiding him and John let him. He knew Rodney was the reason he was grounded and John couldn't shake his anger at him because of it. It felt like a betrayal. So he was a little surprised when the door chimed and Rodney's voice called out,

"Major...can we talk?"

John's response was to think the door open. He sat up, setting aside his book, and watched as Rodney entered. "Something I can help you with?" John asked, his tone carefully neutral.

Rodney shrugged. "Not really. I just wanted to see how you were doing? Beckett won't tell me anything."

"That's because it's none of your goddamned business." John's words were harsh but his tone was still soft. He could feel his body starting to vibrate as anger welled up inside him. But it wasn't just anger that washed over him. It hurt that Rodney had done this too him, and John didn't want to feel that particular kind of pain. He wanted to be emotionally numb. And he was so damn close to achieving his goal.

"I care about people to you know," Rodney shot back, shaking a finger at Sheppard. "You don't have the market on that, Major. So get over it."

"Anyway...rumor has it you might be put back on full duty next week." Rodney looked shaken by that.

John let himself smile, a cold curving of his lips. "That's right. The shoulder is one hundred percent, the headaches are gone, I'm not crazy and I'm not...suicidal." John watched Rodney flinch at the last bit and he was glad.

But Rodney wasn't one to turn away from people when he had something to say. "I did what I had to do, Major."

"I wasn't suicidal." It was hard to say the words, especially to Rodney. Because it was hard to accept that McKay thought that way about him.

"Not consciously," Rodney allowed. "Maybe sacrificial lamb syndrome describes it better. You're willing to die to save everyone else."

John stood up, body still shaking. "That's my job," he ground out. And suddenly the headache came back in a rush, pain gripping the back of his neck before spiraling upward to throb in his temples.

Rodney's eyes narrowed as he studied Sheppard's face. "You okay?"

"Yes, McKay," John snapped. "I'm fine! Are we done here?" He wanted to be left alone. 

"Yeah...I guess we are." Rodney's face fell and he turned and walked out without another word.

"Fuck!" John grabbed his book and hurled it against the door as it slid shut. It wasn't supposed to be like this. He wasn't supposed to feel anything anymore.

Feeling desperate, John grabbed his sticks and began to move. And with each move he focused inward. And by the time he found his center and a measure of peace, his body was quivering, he was soaked in sweat and the headache was just an irritation. But as John sank to the floor the image of Rodney's face lingered.


	12. Chapter 12

John took a deep breath, pulling air deep into his lungs before exhaling slowly, one smooth, shallow, breath. Then he moved to take up a stance in front of Teyla. He locked eyes with her, bent his head briefly then launched his attack.

For a long time there was nothing in the room but the sound of sticks striking, booted and bare feet thudding against the floor and panted breaths. They moved as one now. Graceful and furious and focused. When they came to a halt, stick against stick, eyes still locked together, there was a thick and sudden silence that hung in the air.

An unexpected voice shattered it.

"That was...amazing," Rodney said, from where he stood in the doorway.

Teyla broke eye contact with Sheppard, bowing her head, before turning to smile at McKay. "You watched us?"

Rodney nodded. "That's okay, right? I wasn't breaking any rules or anything?"

"It is fine," Teyla assured him.

"Did you want something, Rodney?" John asked, as he moved to grab a towel from his duffel bag. He wiped the sweat off his face then he rotated his shoulder. No twinges or stiffness. He was back to one hundred percent and he knew it.

Rodney entered the room, looking uncomfortable. "Actually yes, Major," he stated. "I've been working on this console in one of the labs in the west wing and I can't get it to activate. I was hoping you'd be willing to give it a shot."

John nodded, offering a quick smile. He did this because he knew it made everyone more comfortable. Once again he was back to pretending. Whoever someone needed him to be, that's who John became. Over time it was becoming easier to keep the illusion in place. "Just let me grab a quick shower and I'll meet you in the lab. Say in..." He paused to glance at his watch. "Twenty minutes?"

"That's fine," Rodney replied. He watched as Sheppard gathered his things.

"Same time tomorrow?" John asked Teyla, as he headed for the door.

She nodded. "Yes, major. Same time." Once Sheppard was gone, she turned to McKay. "You are troubled."

Rodney shrugged. "No. Just...uh...you and the major...what you did with those sticks it was...amazing. I didn't expect Sheppard to be so good at it."

"He has pushed himself to excel," Teyla conceded.

"You don't look happy about that," Rodney countered, feeling scarily insightful.

It was Teyla's turn to shrug. "The major has become...fixated…on the body over the mind. He is trying to detach himself from the passion that has always fueled his soul."

Rodney was startled by that. "You believe in souls?"

"How could I not believe in that which exists?" Teyla spoke softly.

"Do you think that Sheppard...I mean...is he okay?" Rodney felt embarrassed but he made eye contact with Teyla and he was hopeful that she would say what he wanted to hear.

But Teyla shook her head. "I think that he is...damaged."

That shook Rodney. "Damaged?"

"Inside," Teyla replied. "He is wounded and he will not allow himself to heal."

"Yeah...wounded," Rodney echoed. "You know…sometimes I wish I could fix people as easily as I can fix everything else." With that he practically ran for the door, still muttering to himself.

Teyla sighed then she collected her belongings and followed in his wake.

Elizabeth was pacing. She wasn't one to pace, but she felt the need to be in motion. She had called Kate and Beckett into her office to discuss Major Sheppard. It had been three weeks since she had grounded him, indefinitely, and just this morning he had come into her office, requesting to be put back on to full duty. Elizabeth had put him off stating that she needed to speak with Beckett and Kate first. So here they all were and Elizabeth wasn't sure she wanted to hear what they had to say.

"I think you need to put Major Sheppard back to work," Kate said firmly. "He's ready to go back. He's worked hard to make progress it shows."

"I guess." Elizabeth stopped pacing and crossed her arms over her chest. "It seems like he's trying too hard now. Like he's just doing what he has to do to make us believe he's okay. That he's back to normal."

Kate shook her head. "I never said he was back to normal, Elizabeth. Only that he's made progress and he's ready to do his job."

Elizabeth sighed and sank down into the chair behind her desk. She took a moment to bury her face in her hands and collect her thoughts. For the most part, she couldn't deny what Kate was telling her. She had seen the changes in John. He had done everything right. He allowed himself to heal, at least physically, and Beckett was pleased and had assured her that Sheppard was back to one hundred percent in that respect. And Elizabeth couldn't deny the fact that John was making the attempt to reestablish himself with his men. He started going to chow during normal hours, and had taken it upon himself to get updated on his reports and to reacquaint himself with the daily routine. Little by little he had slipped back into his old routine and Elizabeth had allowed it, with Kate and Beckett's approval. But now it was time to let John off his leash and she knew it. But it scared her.

Lifting her head, Elizabeth eyed her companions. "I guess I'm projecting my own fears here," she allowed.

"A little bit," Kate replied, with a gentle smile. "Which is understandable. You feel protective of the people under you and I think you feel particularly responsible for Major Sheppard. After all, he wouldn't be here, and he wouldn't have gone through everything he's gone through if you hadn't asked him to come to Atlantis."

"You nailed that one," Elizabeth conceded. And she recognized, and accepted, the guilt she felt over that. If not for her, Sheppard would have remained a shuttle pilot in Antarctica. He wouldn't have taken a side journey through hell and back. "But that's not being fair to the major, so...I guess he's back on duty."

Kate stood up, smiling. "He'll be glad to here it."

Carson stood up as well. "He's coming in for his final check up in a few minutes...Shall I tell him the good news?"

"Please do," Elizabeth replied. She watched as Kate and Beckett left her office then she resisted the urge to close the door behind them and have a good cry. Mainly because she wasn't really sure what she felt like crying about.

John was pleased to be back on duty. He damn well had earned the right. Controlling the headaches and easing his nightmares wasn't easy, but it was worth the effort. The Kee-ta Teyla had taught him was the center of his focus. He relied on it to get him through the rough spots. It allowed him to detach himself so that he was free to create the illusion of being who he had once been. It wasn't something he wanted to do, but it was something he accepted. Elizabeth needed him to be the person he had been. So did Rodney. John had come to realize that this was something he could give them and it didn't cost him all that much to do so. And, ultimately, it gained him his freedom back.

Sometimes it was hard, though, to be that person with Elizabeth. John hadn't yet forgiven her, but he told himself he could forget and move on. He had to move on. Had to move past it. 

But that night, on the eve of his first mission in almost a month, John wrapped himself up in the Kee-ta, tuning out the real world for the neutral zone he had created within himself. And that night he slept without dreaming.

A week passed and slipped into a familiar routine. They had two missions and all was well. Until now. Now John and his team were gathered in the conference room with Weir and they were arguing about a possible mission. It wasn't Elizabeth and John so much at odds as it was John and Rodney.

"We have to go back there," Rodney insisted. He was on his feet and pacing in agitation.

"I think it's a bad idea," John replied, as he sprawled back in his chair. But his laid back posture was just another illusion. He was feeling anxious inside.

Elizabeth studied the two men then held up one hand to silence Rodney from another tirade. "Let me get this straight," she interjected. "The Bemmans are willing to trade with us, correct?"

It was Teyla who replied. "That is correct."

"And you have traded with them in the past?" Elizabeth prompted.

"Yes. They are tough but fair. Or were." Teyla was nothing but honest. "I have not traded with them in over ten years."

Elizabeth looked at Sheppard, seeing the underlying tension he was trying so hard to conceal. "According to my report, Sgt. Bates traded with the Bemmans when we first arrived and that went well."

John kept a neutral expression on his face and his tone soft. "That's right. But they didn't really have that much exposure to the planet and they didn't trade with Hecler. He's the new minister, if you will."

"I take it you don't like him?"

"I don't trust him." John wasn't going to lie about it.

Elizabeth nodded. "Any reason why in particular?"

John shrugged. "Gut instinct."

"Puhleez.." Rodney interjected, sarcasm oozing from every pore. "What's the big deal either way? They haven't shown any aggression towards us and they want to trade." Rodney turned his attention to Weir. "They have a library full of Ancient texts. I didn't get to see much on the tour but I read a bit here and there and I'm relatively sure that the books will be able to help us to better understand and operate Atlantis. As in with their knowledge we will be able to make Atlantis fully operational. Which is a good thing." As he spoke, Rodney threw a glare in Sheppard's direction.

John ignored him.

"Really?" Elizabeth was surprised to hear that.

Rodney nodded. "Really. Why do you think I'm so fired up to go back there? Which we need to do like now."

Elizabeth held up a hand to cut him off and looked at Sheppard. "What do they want to trade for the books?"

"They don't want to trade for the books, per se," John replied. "They want to trade to allow us time in the library reading the books."

"What did you offer them?" Elizabeth prompted.

John shrugged. "Nothing yet. I told them we needed to discuss whether or not to continue negotiations with you. But...they seemed very interested in our weapons."

Elizabeth frowned at that and turned to Lt. Blake. "What's your opinion on the Bemmans, Lieutenant?"

"They seemed pretty straightforward, ma'am," Lt. Blake stated. 

"Did you sense any hostility from them?"

Blake shook his head. "No. They seemed friendly. Just…eager."

Elizabeth sighed and rubbed her forehead then she looked at everyone and announced, "Dismissed. I'll think it over and give you my decision in a couple of hours."

"Time is of the essence," Rodney offered as a parting shot, before striding from the room.

The others made to follow him.

John hung back and glared at Elizabeth. When she looked up, she seemed startled to find him still there. John got in her face. "If you okay this mission...you're making a mistake."

"Why?" Elizabeth let her own anger flare. "You haven't given me any good reason not to okay it, major."

"I told you I have a bad feeling about it!" John shot back. A part of him thought she should have known that about him by now. But it was just further proof that she had never understood him and never would.

Elizabeth shook her head. 'Not good enough, especially given the information we could glean. Rodney is about wetting himself with excitement."

John pulled back, but let his anger settle about him like a cloak. "Sometimes you have to listen to what your instincts tell you, Doctor," he drawled.

"And sometimes you have to believe in the facts, Major." Elizabeth was the one confronting him now. "We need this information and I have no doubt but if Rodney thought it was dangerous in any way, he would not be anxious to go back there. And you know I'm right about that."

"It's not about being right," John countered, even as he moved away from her. The anger faded, replaced by anxiety and he felt an all too familiar ache forming in his temples. "So...I take it the mission is a go?"

Elizabeth nodded. "Yes. Can you be ready to leave in two hours?" If she were going to do this then there was no time like the present.

John nodded. "We'll be ready. I'm taking extra security."

"Do what you have to do, major," Elizabeth allowed.

"Would if I could," he shot back then he was out the door without a backward glance.

Elizabeth stared after him, wondering why she felt as if she had just gone ten rounds with Ali and lost.

The team wasn't expected back for three days, but not even twenty-four hours had passed when Elizabeth got the call on her radio. Sheppard's team was in the jumper bay and the major had called for a med team. Elizabeth was up and running for the door. She stepped into the nearest transporter but by the time she reached the jumper bay, the med team was already there and wheeling away gurney after gurney. Elizabeth's heart plummeted into her stomach as she watched Rodney roll past her. A gurney with Teyla on it followed in its wake. Then John was there and Elizabeth caught her breath. He was dirty and bloodied. His face was pale, his dark hair was matted. His eyes looked cold and empty as they flickered in her direction. But he wasn't looking at her, he was looking through her. Even as Elizabeth opened her mouth to ask what had happened, Sheppard had pushed past her, following the gurneys. She watched him go, but was jolted out of her shocked state when two medics passed by, pushing a gurney with a body bag on it.

Feeling the world tilt for a moment, Elizabeth felt a strong hand catch her elbow and steady her. She shook herself then turned to find Lt. Blake standing there. He looked pale and shaky. Elizabeth could sympathize. "What happened?" she asked, and her voice sounded hoarse to her own ears.

"It was a trap," Blake stated. "They lured us in then tried to kidnap Dr. McKay. They wanted him to translate the texts for them. Major Sheppard told them no and then all hell broke loose. We lost Peterson on the planet. Kinsey died in the jumper." Blake broke off to rub a shaky hand over his face, smearing a line of blood on his cheek. "Teyla was knifed but I think she'll be okay."

"And Dr. McKay?" Elizabeth didn't want to know, not really, but she had to ask. When they had wheeled Rodney past her he had looked broken.

Blake winced. "I don't know what they did. The Bemmans took him underground. The major went after him. We took Kinsey and Teyla to the Jumper first then he said he was going back for McKay. I didn't think he was coming back then I saw him. He was carrying Dr. McKay. I thought...I thought McKay was dead at first. The major laid him down and told me to do what I could then he flew us back. I don't know what happened."

Elizabeth realized she was shaking as she reached out to pat Blake on the shoulder. He was shaking too. "Get yourself checked out, Lieutenant," she told him. She watched him go then Elizabeth turned and puked all over the jumper bay floor.


	13. Chapter 13

Elizabeth had wanted to go straight to the infirmary, but she had to do her job and take care of clean up and an emergency in one of the labs. She did ask Carson to give her updates on both Teyla and Rodney. Teyla, she learned, would be just fine. Rodney was in a coma. He had internal injuries and head trauma. Elizabeth didn't ask for details. When she asked how Major Sheppard was doing, she was surprised to learn he had never showed up in the infirmary. That wasn't like John. He was always there for an injured team member.

With everything that happened, six hours passed before Elizabeth was able to make her own way to the infirmary. She checked in with Carson about Rodney's condition first. There was no change. She then learned that Teyla was about to be released. Elizabeth went to visit with her before she left. She had questions she knew that Teyla could answer for her. "How are you doing?" Elizabeth asked, as she approached the bed.

"I am fine," Teyla said softly. She was sitting up, fully dressed, just waiting on her official release. She touched the bandage on her left forearm. "It was just a scratch."

"Good." Elizabeth was pleased. She sat down on the end of the bed, looked Teyla in the eye and asked, "What happened?"

Teyla sighed. "The Bemman's were waiting for our return. They had no interest in trading with us. They wanted Dr. McKay."

Elizabeth closed her eyes as she listened to confirmation of what Lt. Blake had said. Then she whispered, "So...Major Sheppard was right."

"Yes." Teyla did not hesitate in her reply, but she laid a gentle hand on Weir's shoulder. "That does not mean that you were wrong."

"I was wrong." Elizabeth pulled in a shuddery breath, resisting the urge to cry. "Rodney is in a coma because I was wrong. Because I wouldn't listen to Sheppard."

Teyla sighed softly. "He did not know this would happen, any more than you could have. We cannot foretell the future."

Elizabeth knew that. She nodded and managed a shaky smile. "The thing is...I know that not all of my decisions and choices are right. We all make mistakes. But this one could have been prevented. What happened to Rodney is directly my fault and I'm finding it very hard to live with."

"You send teams out every day, knowing we might not make it back. Some of us haven't." Teyla's tone was hushed. "This is no different."

"It feels different." Elizabeth almost snapped the words then offered a silent apology. "It is different." With that Elizabeth slipped off the bed, but she had one more question to ask before leaving. "How did...how did Major Sheppard seem to you? Was he okay?"

Teyla shook her head. "He was furious and yet...too calm. It is hard to explain. It scared me to see him like that."

Elizabeth was shocked. "You were scared of him?"

"I was scared _for_ him." Teyla slid off the bed as well.

"I should go find him." Elizabeth made to leave but stopped when Teyla's hand fell on her arm. She turned to face the other woman and she saw compassion and understanding in the dark eyes.

Teyla squeezed Elizabeth's arm. "Let me find him. I think it would be best."

Elizabeth nodded. She knew Teyla was right. She knew she was the last person Sheppard would want to see right now. "Contact me when you find him. He needs to check in with Beckett." And with that Elizabeth turned and walked away, before the tears that burned in her eyes could fall.

John had left the Jumper bay and headed straight for the exercise area. He had divested himself of his weapons and his vest and then he had moved to the heavy bag in the corner and he started punching. When every muscle started to burn and he started shaking, John focused inward, found his center, and kept slugging.

But now he was sitting against the wall, knuckles bruised and bleeding, muscles burning, head throbbing and fighting the urge to cry. He never cried. But his eyes burned and he kept them shut tight.

He heard the doors slide open and John knew who it was without looking up. He felt her move to sit beside him. "You okay?" John asked, and he was pleased that his voice sounded normal.

"I am well," Teyla replied.

"McKay?" John knew it was bad, that Rodney wasn't going to just wake up and be okay. That's why he was hiding out here. He wanted to keep the truth at bay for a while. But reality was about to hit him in the face.

Teyla was silent a moment then she replied, "He is in a coma."

John said nothing, he just waited for her to continue.

"Dr. Beckett has hope that he will awaken," Teyla said after a time.

"When I found him...they were trying to bash his head in. It was like they wanted to get to his brain...as if they could just take it and use what he knew that way." John clenched his fists, feeling the pull of torn flesh, letting the pain ground him. "I broke the neck of the guy that was hitting him." He could still hear the crack of bone and the heaviness of the man's head in his hands. It had been so easy to do. Too easy. John could feel Teyla's eyes upon him, feel the heat of her gaze. He opened his eyes and the look of horror on her face almost made him laugh. Almost.

Pushing to his feet, John walked out, leaving Teyla sitting there. He headed for his room and stripped out of his bloody clothes. Rodney's blood. He took a shower, got dressed and made his way to the infirmary. John heard the beep of the heart monitor and followed it to Rodney's location. No one was there. So John sat down in the chair next to the bed and just stared at McKay. The man had never been so still before.

"Major?"

John didn't turn to look at Beckett. 

Carson moved to stand beside him. "I need to do your post mission check up."

"I'm fine." John barely whispered the words because he knew they were a lie. He wasn't fine. Not this time. But he had to pretend. Everyone would want him to pretend.

"That's my call to make," Carson shot back, and he sounded angry.

John looked at him then rose from his chair. He let Carson lead him over to an empty bed. He sat quietly as his vital's were taken. He pulled away when Beckett reached for the hem of his shirt, then he flinched when the Scotsman grabbed his forearm.

Carson let go and glared at Sheppard. "Take your shirt off, major. Now."

It wasn't worth the fight. John was tired of fighting. He yanked the shirt off then looked straight ahead as Beckett prodded his bruised ribs, then exclaimed over the bandage on his left arm.

"What happened?" Carson queried.

"Nothing much. Some people don't take kindly to impending death." John shrugged, ignoring the stab of pain in his side. "They put up a bit of a fight when you try to kill them."

Carson blanched at his words then reached for an elastic wrap. He bound Sheppard's ribs then he unwrapped the bandage on his arm. "You'll need a few stitches. Knife wound?"

John nodded. He could still feel the blade slicing through his flesh. It felt cold but it hadn't really hurt. Maybe he was just too numb.

"I'm going to start you on an antibiotic and I'll give you something for the pain." Carson was busy with the stitches. "When I'm finished I want you to go to your room and rest."

"I'm not leaving." John wasn't looking at Rodney, but he was listening to the monitor beeping. Each beep was another breath of life for McKay.

Carson cursed, but then he sighed. "Fine...it's actually for the best. I'd rather be able to keep an eye on you. But you're putting on scrubs and I'll put you in the bed next to Rodney's."

John said nothing. He just sat there as Beckett did his thing. When it was done, John reached for his shirt.

"I'll take that," Carson said, snatching it from Sheppard's grasp. "I'll be back with the scrubs. You can have that bed." He pointed to one in the corner.

Sliding off the table, John moved to the chair next to Rodney's bed and sat back down. A few minutes later Beckett returned with the scrubs, a syringe and a couple of white tablets. John watched Beckett inject him, swallowed down the pills then accepted the scrubs. He pulled the top on and got up when Beckett gripped his good arm. John let himself be led over to the corner bed. He unlaced his boots but ignored the scrub bottoms. He shifted the pillow so he could sit up then he got on the bed and crossed his legs. John knew that he would be asleep soon. He knew that Beckett had slipped in a sedative. He didn't care.

John closed his eyes. He felt a blanket draped over him then the sound of Beckett's footsteps receding as he walked away. Leaning his head back, John listened to the beep of the heart monitor. Until even that reality faded away.


	14. Chapter 14

Elizabeth paced over to the window of Kate's office. She had come here wanting to talk. But fifteen minutes had ticked away and she had yet to say a word.

Kate seemed content to watch her, but finally she asked, "What's wrong?"

"Everything." Elizabeth almost spit the word out.

"You blame yourself for what happened to Dr. McKay." 

Elizabeth turned to face Kate. She nodded. "I should have listened to John."

Kate sighed then said gently, "He didn't know this was going to happen, anymore than you did."

"But he sensed going back was a bad idea. He didn't want to go," Elizabeth protested. She was tired of everyone trying to absolve her from her guilt. She had earned it, dammit!

"Dr. McKay felt it was safe," Kate pointed out.

Elizabeth nodded. "But Rodney is like a dog with a bone when it comes to new discoveries. I let his enthusiasm cloud my judgment."

Kate looked surprised by that. "Really? How so?"

"My first instinct was to say no." Elizabeth spoke in a hushed voice, but she knew Kate could hear her. "My own gut instincts were telling me that something wasn't quite right. I didn't have any factual proof, but I was...unsettled."

"So why did you give your consent?"

Elizabeth had been wondering that herself. "I'm not sure why. In fact, it wasn't until Sheppard started pushing the issue that I changed my mind." Turning back to the window, Elizabeth gazed out over the water. There were heavy waves that mirrored the turbulence of her troubled heart and soul.

Kate moved to stand beside her. "What were you thinking at the time?"

"That John really shouldn't be going out on missions. He shouldn't be making command decisions of any kind. That he wasn't ready to handle it." Hearing the words coming out of her mouth, Elizabeth realized how stupid her reasoning had been. It wasn't Sheppard who hadn't been able to handle it, it had been herself. She had allowed personal feelings to cloud her judgment and Rodney had paid the price.

"You can't think that way, Elizabeth," Kate said gently.

Anger flared in Elizabeth. "How else am I supposed to think? I screwed up and Rodney might die because of it!"

Kate reached out and gripped Elizabeth by the arm. "You know that you can't always make the right decision. You know that bad things are going to happen to the people under your command and that you have no control over it."

"I know." Elizabeth's voice was barely a whisper. She knew but until now she hadn't had to deal with it to this extreme.

"Have you spoken to Major Sheppard yet?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "No. I doubt he'll want to talk to me."

Kate looked troubled. "You think he'll blame you for what happened?"

"Why wouldn't he?" Elizabeth was starting to wonder why she had come here. It wasn't helping. If anything it was making her feel worse. Not that she had any right to feel better. "I have to go." She pulled away from Kate and headed for the door. But she didn't head for her office, instead Elizabeth almost ran to the nearest balcony. Once outside she gripped the railing and fought against the tears that threatened to fall.

John was sitting next to Rodney's bed when Beckett came in to check on them both. He saw the Scotsman glance over at the food tray he had set on the floor next to his chair. The nurse had brought it to him earlier and John had managed to eat half of it.

Carson looked thoughtful as he checked Rodney's vitals, then he focused his attention on Sheppard. "How are you feeling this morning, Major?"

"Fine." John didn't have anything more to add. He wasn't really feeling talkative this morning, but he knew he couldn't avoid Beckett's questions.

"You need to eat more," Carson commented.

John shrugged. "I'll work on it. How's Rodney doing?"

Carson studied the chart he was holding. "He's doing as well as can be expected."

"Translation?" John prompted. He needed to know exactly what he was dealing with. He needed to know if Rodney really had a chance to survive this.

"Just what I said, Major," Carson replied. "He's holding on and that's the best we can hope for at the moment."

John looked at Rodney's pale face. Most of it was mottled with purple bruises. John's fingers curled into fists as he remembered the way McKay had been beaten as he came barreling through the door. Strapped down, helpless and already unconscious and the bastards had kept kicking him in the head. "Will he have brain damage?"

Carson sighed. "He's showing normal brain activity which is a good sign. As far as what damage he may, or may not, have suffered...we won't know that until he wakes up. There is some swelling in the brain but it's already going down. I'm very hopeful that Rodney will wake up soon and achieve a full recovery."

"I hope so." John needed to believe that was true. He rose to his feet, wincing a bit at the pull in his ribs. He moved closer to the bed to offer a silent see you later to Rodney, then he turned and made to leave.

"Where do you think you're going?" Carson asked, grabbing Sheppard by his good arm.

John tugged his arm free. "I'm going to go to my room and take a shower then I'm going to go back to work."

Carson shook his head. "You're grounded for the time being, Major. As is the rest of your team."

"I figured as much," John replied. "But I'm still the ranking military officer. I have other duties besides off world missions."

"You need to rest," Carson insisted.

John offered a half smile of resignation. "No rest for the weary, doc. Right now I need to take care of my people." With that John slipped past Beckett and he was relieved when the man let him go.

John took his shower then he dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved black shirt. He put sneakers on instead of boots and left his Berretta locked in a box under the bed. Then he left his room and made his way to Rodney's lab. Not surprisingly, Zelenka was the only one there. "Hey," John offered in greeting.

Zelenka's head shot up and he turned around so fast he slipped off the stool he was sitting on. "Oh...Major...it is you. I was not expecting anyone."

"Yeah...I can see that. Place is pretty empty." John moved over to the table Zelenka had been sitting at. There were Ancient artifacts spread out over every inch of it. "Any good stuff?" John queried.

"All of it is good," Zelenka replied, as he used one middle finger to push his glasses back up on his nose.

John nodded. He felt uncomfortable being here and for a moment he wondered why he was, until he saw the way Zelenka's shoulders slumped. They had lost so many people and now Rodney might be lost to them as well. John knew he was not alone in his grief, but he believed he could handle it better. He was used to locking his sorrow and his guilt away in little, mental, boxes. "When was the last time you got a good night's sleep?" John asked.

Zelenka shrugged. "Sleeping is not such a good thing of late."

"Yeah...I know." John knew how hard it was to even attempt sleeping when you knew a nightmare was waiting in the wings. "Need any help with this stuff?"

"You have time to activate some things?" Zelenka looked surprised as he asked.

John smiled and he wondered if it looked as fake as it felt. "Yeah...I've got time."

Zelenka looked excited. He bounced over to the end of the table and picked up something that looked like an oversized CD. "Please to touch this major. I have asked others but nothing happens."

"Maybe nothing is supposed to happen," John suggested, even as he reached for the piece. But he proved himself wrong. It lit up, glowing along the edges, the moment he touched it. "Any idea what it is?" John asked, as he handed it back.

"Not a clue," Zelenka confessed. He set it aside, looking disappointed that the glow had faded. Disappointed but resigned, and he picked up a tubular piece about six inches long. "Now this."

John accepted it, curling his fingers around the cool metal, and he felt it warming to his touch, even as it lit up on both ends. He handed it back and accepted something else. He spent the next three hours touching anything Zelenka asked him too, after which he convinced the scientist to take a break and join him in the messhall. As they stepped into the nearest transporter, John's thoughts were on Rodney. He knew that if McKay were awake and aware, he would be pleased by the fact that John was looking after Zelenka. John knew that Rodney considered the Czech scientist to be the only one who even came close to his own genius. Which made Zelenka worth looking after for that alone. But that wasn't the only reason why John was doing this. He was doing it because it was the only thing he could do for Rodney right now. And that mattered in a way he didn't even want to think about.

Elizabeth was running late. Not that she had a specific time to start her day, but she was usually in her office by 7 a.m. earth time. Or what they believed to still be Earth time. But today she had overslept and she tried not to feel guilty about it. It wasn't as if Atlantis would fall apart just because she was an hour late. Would have been less time but she had made a side trip to the infirmary to visit Rodney. There was no change.

Stepping into her office, Elizabeth froze. Sitting in the chair across from her desk was Major Sheppard. Elizabeth almost turned and bolted, but she knew she couldn't avoid a confrontation forever. So she stepped all the way inside and closed the door. She watched John turn at the sound and she tried to read his expression. But his face was carefully neutral. "What brings you here?" Elizabeth asked, as she moved to sit behind her desk.

"Just checking in," John said softly. "That's still part of my job, isn't it?"

"I thought you were grounded?"

John shrugged. "From off world missions. Not from regular duties." He locked eyes with her. "At least...I didn't think I was."

Elizabeth shook her head. "No...I suppose not. If you feel up to it."

"I need to keep busy."

"Of course." Elizabeth understood that perfectly well. She had the same need.

John leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his eyes still locked on her face. "What happened to Rodney was not your fault."

Elizabeth rocked back as if he had struck her. That was the last thing she expected him to say. But he was wrong and she wanted him to know that. "It was my fault. I should have listened to you."

"Because I have such an excellent track record and all," he drawled.

"You were right this time," Elizabeth countered, and she heard the sharpness in her tone. She didn't want him to be calm about this. She didn't want him to absolve her. He wasn't supposed to be doing this.

Pushing to his feet, John walked to the door, but he didn't open it. He turned back and said, "It's my job to make the mistakes and live with them. Not yours. I'm the one who failed." With that he opened the door and strode out.

Elizabeth watched him go, feeling sucker punched yet again.

John left Elizabeth's office feeling wired. He needed a way to relieve the tension and the anxiety. He knew he wasn't up to a work out with Teyla. Neither was Teyla for that matter, so he went to his room and sat on his bed. Closing his eyes, John focused inward, focusing on the Kee-ta. Searching for the peace and serenity that he so desired, but that seemed so far out of his reach. It was an exercise in finding his own center and letting it create a delicate balance between the mind, body, heart and soul. But it was a balance he couldn't create this time and John was shaking and sweating by the time he gave up and hurled his book across the room in anger.

He had come so close to finding that place deep inside where nothing could touch him. Where he was numb and his emotions were nothing more than shadows that danced around the edge of his consciousness. So close until Rodney had nearly died. Then the fragile shell of numbness had shattered and John didn't know how to fix it. The illusion he had worked so hard on was slipping away, eluding his grasp like wisps of smoke. Mocking him. John closed his eyes. He felt as if he were sliding into madness.


	15. Chapter 15

Elizabeth felt drained. She had been sleeping, but only with the help of sleeping pills and she knew Beckett was going to cut her off of them soon. Truthfully, she was emotionally exhausted more than anything. Guilt and fear and confusion waged a battle inside her, wearing her down from the inside out. She had been so certain that Major Sheppard wasn't ready and able to do his job, but now she realized she was the one who wasn't ready. Wasn't able. She had messed up in so many ways and she didn't know how to fix her mistakes.

John seemed to be faring better. He was the one keeping morale up, offering hope for everyone, letting them believe that everything would be okay. He was the one keeping a nighttime vigil at Rodney's bedside, reading to the scientist, talking to him until he was hoarse, urging Beckett to get some much needed rest. John was doing everything right.

It scared the hell out of Elizabeth.

She watched the way John moved. The way he smiled. The way it never reached his eyes and she could almost see him reinforcing his emotional shields. He gave the illusion of letting everyone in even as he was busy locking them out. Locking _her_ out. She didn't blame him, but she was worried about him. She talked to Kate about him but Kate didn't know what to do. Sheppard acted fine. Elizabeth began to wonder if maybe she was seeing what she wanted to see rather than what was really there. Maybe she needed John to be messed up so she would feel more in control. But she had never been less in control, less certain of herself and her choices, than she was now. She wanted to go home. To turn tail and run.

Several times she had come close to contacting SG1 to make the request to return to Earth. Even now she was tempted to do so. Instead she pressed the heels of her hands to her gritty eyes and rubbed hard. Just then her radio beeped. "Weir."

"It's Beckett. You need to come down here," he told her. "Rodney just woke up."

"I'll be right there," Elizabeth replied, and she was already out the door.

John had been sitting with Rodney when he opened his eyes. He saw recognition in the blue gaze and had taken a moment to squeeze Rodney's hand before calling for Beckett. Then John had faded away, slipping out the door. Rodney didn't need him anymore.

Without conscious thought, John found himself in the exercise room. It had been three weeks since Rodney had slipped into his coma. John had begun to lose hope that he would ever wake up. He was glad Rodney had come back to them, but he felt distanced from any real emotion. Which was just as well. He didn't want to feel anything anymore.

John hadn't brought his sticks with him, and he was feeling too wired up to consider the Kee-ta. But there was a heavy bag in the corner and he strode over to it and started punching. He put everything he had behind each punch and it wasn't until his muscles started to burn and his sweat-slicked body sagged to the floor, that he realized how angry he was. He was shaking with it and that scared him, more than he wanted to admit. Scared him enough that he pushed himself to his feet and ran out the door.

He kept running.

John was trying to focus on his book when he heard Rodney stirring. Setting it aside he stood up and moved to the bed. When Rodney's eyes fluttered open, John smiled at him. "How do you feel?"

"Thirsty," Rodney whispered.

Reaching for the glass on the bed stand, John held it for him. "Better?" he asked, after Rodney took a few sips.

Rodney nodded. "Thanks. How long was I out this time?"

"About eight hours." John glanced at his watch. Rodney had been drifting in and out of it for the past four days. Beckett said the natural sleep was good for him and that he should make a full recovery.

"How long have you been here?" Rodney locked eyes with Sheppard as he asked.

John shrugged. "Off and on for a couple of hours. I should call the nurse."

Rodney reached out to him. "Don't. Not yet. I want to talk."

"What about?" John felt a flare of tension that set off an instant ache in his temples. He was afraid he knew exactly what Rodney wanted to talk about. What had happened. They had managed to avoid it so far.

"I don't remember much...from the planet," Rodney began. "I remember them grabbing me and tying me up. I was scared."

John reached out and patted Rodney's shoulder, awkwardly. He didn't want to do this. "It's over, Rodney. You're safe."

Rodney sighed. "I want to remember...I just remember how much it hurt."

"They won't hurt you again!" John snarled, and he was startled by his own rage. He backed up a step when he saw the surprise in Rodney's eyes. "I…I'll get the nurse." With that John was gone. He told the nurse Rodney was awake then he headed for the exercise room.

Rodney woke up to find Elizabeth watching him. He could see the guilt in her eyes. It was almost a relief after the anger that had blazed in Sheppard's eyes. Anger and a pain that was dark and soul deep. "Hey," he said softly.

A shaky smile curved her lips. "Hey yourself. Can I get you anything?"

"No. Can we talk?"

"Sure." Elizabeth grabbed the stool. "Do you remember anything more?"

Rodney shook his head. "No. Carson says I might not ever remember everything. I'm hoping he's right about that." A shudder went through Rodney just thinking about the pain he had suffered. "Actually...I want to talk about you and Sheppard."

Elizabeth stiffened then forcibly relaxed. "I'm sorry about what happened, Rodney. I messed up and you almost died."

"I messed up, Elizabeth!" Rodney hissed. "I wanted to go back. We didn't know this would happen."

"Sheppard knew."

Rodney sighed. "No...he didn't. He just had a feeling. Guess we should have listened to him, but we didn't. End of story. I'm alive and that's all that matters."

Elizabeth nodded. "You got that right."

"Don't blame yourself."

"Who then?" Elizabeth's tone was sharp.

Rodney sighed. "Shit happens." He didn't know how else to explain it.

Elizabeth looked startled then she nodded. "Yes...it does."

"We all make mistakes," Rodney continued. Not that he was one to admit that to himself. But every since coming to the Pegasus galaxy, Rodney had come to learn that he couldn't control everything. No matter how hard he tried to do just that. He knew Elizabeth had fallen into the trap of believing that she could control things or, at the very least, do damage control. But sometimes you just had to suck it up and accept the failure and the loss.

"This mistake almost cost you your life, Rodney," Elizabeth said, and her voice was hoarse.

Rodney saw tears in her eyes and looked away. "But it didn't. That's what you have to remember."

Rising to her feet, Elizabeth reached out and patted his arm. "Thank you, Rodney. Get some sleep."

"That's all I do is sleep," Rodney groused. But he found himself closing his eyes anyway.

John didn't falter from the routine he had set for himself. Everyday fell into the same pattern. He got up, showered, stopped in to see Rodney, who was now recuperating in his room. Then he grabbed a bite to eat before checking in with Weir for the day. They went over reports, discussed what needed to be discussed then John did his rounds on Atlantis. His team would remain on base until Rodney was ready to go back out again. Beckett said he could probably go back in a month.

Just before supper, John would work out with Teyla. They would go their separate ways to shower then meet in the mess to eat together. John would then visit Rodney again and they would play chess. After the game John would leave and do a perimeter walk of Atlantis, just to reassure himself that everything was okay. Around midnight he would go to his room and strip down and pretend to sleep.

But he was dreaming again. Every time he closed his eyes he would see Sumner's face. The face of the old man he had put a bullet into. Then his face would morph into Ford's face and sometimes the image was blurry and faded and John would grasp at it. He couldn't let himself forget what Ford looked like. He couldn't let him go like that.

Sometimes the dreams would fade enough to let John get maybe two hours sleep. Tonight was one of those nights. He was able to drift into slumber, but was shocked out of it by a pounding on his door. He shot out of bed, forgetting the fact he was only wearing boxers and a tee shirt and thought the door open.

Elizabeth stepped inside. "Why didn't you answer your radio?" she snapped.

"What?" John shook his head at her then he looked over to his ear piece on the night stand and realized it was clicking. "I...I didn't hear it." That scared him a bit.

"We have a problem." Elizabeth was watching him with a narrowed gaze, but she focused on her reason for calling him.

John was already reaching for his pants and stepping into them. It should have been awkward to be dressing in front of her but he sensed the tension. Something was wrong. "What happened?"

Elizabeth closed her eyes for a moment then braced herself. Eyes snapping open she replied, "Riley's team is trapped on M3R-394. The Wraith came, but they managed to find shelter. But they won't be able to hold out if help doesn't arrive soon."

"Tell them we'll be there in fifteen." John had his jacket on and was lacing on his boots. "I'll take two jumpers, eight men in each. Tell Blake to bring all the ammo and extras we may need." Boots were on so John reached for his thigh holster. He strapped it on, checked his Berretta, then he was ready to head out the door. He stopped when Weir touched his arm.

"Be safe," she whispered.

John nodded then he was out the door.

Twelve minutes later he was through the gate with Jumper 2 right behind him. They entered a war zone and blasted their way through. Using the Life signs detector, along with the coordinates that Riley had given Weir, they were able to find the others. John's only focus was on getting his people out alive and with that thought in mind, once they had landed the jumpers, he gave orders for everyone to do whatever was necessary to rescue their men. He took his own orders and plowed through the Wraith. He sensed Teyla at his side for a time then they were separated.

Riley's team had found some kind of ruins. It was barely daybreak so there were lots of shadows, more so inside the crumbling structure. John heard screams and followed the sound. He shot two Wraith who were sucking on two marines. The Wraith stayed down and John went to his men. One was Riley. "You okay?" John asked.

"I am now, sir," Riley replied. "Thanks for the rescue."

"Get back to the jumper." John hauled him to his feet. He then helped Corporal Davis to stand, but the young man had been fed on and he know looked about forty-five years old. John didn't react. He simply handed him off to Riley. "Get yourselves back to the jumper," he ordered.

Riley nodded. "Yes, sir."

John caught his eye, seeing the fear there. Fear and gratitude. He blinked then asked, "Anyone else inside?"

"The Wraith dragged Edwards back there. We were trying to rescue him when we got caught," Riley replied.

"I'll find him." John nodded for Riley to head off then he turned and stepped into the darkened corridor. The light from his P90 barely cut the darkness. He didn't see the body lying on the ground so he stumbled over it, falling to his knees. When he caught himself and looked back, John caught his breath at the sight. It was Edwards and he had been drained. Sumner's face flashed in John's head. He was so damn tired of this. There was a sound behind him, a sense of movement and John made to turn just as something hard struck him in the head and he went flying backwards. He hit the wall hard, feeling the impact in his ribs, biting back a cry as he landed on the floor in a heap. It was too dark to see clearly and his head was swimming and John closed his eyes, trying to orient himself. He heard a snarl and acted on instinct, raising his P90 and firing towards the sound. He heard the Wraith stumble back and go down.

John opened his eyes and he still couldn't see. He raised his P90, letting the dim light sweep the area, brushing over the ground. No body. John knew why a moment later when he went flying through the air again. This time he landed in rubble and everything seemed to hurt. He panted, trying to draw in full breaths, but it was hard to breathe with the breath knocked out of his lungs. John felt himself drifting away for a moment, shaken back to awareness when he felt his vest ripped open. There was a moment of déjà vu. Bob had almost fed on him until Ford arrived and zapped him. But Ford wasn't going to show up this time. Ford was dead. Left behind to die alone. John shook his head to dispel the memory, but Ford's image remained.

It hit John in this moment how tired he was. Tired of pretending that everything was okay. Tired of creating an illusion of himself to please everyone else. He was tired of feeling every single death. He was tired of trying to convince himself that he could deal with everything. He was tired of living a lie. He felt his tee shirt being ripped apart and John closed his eyes, ready to accept this. But the image of Ford's face wouldn't waver. And reflected in Ford's eyes was an image of himself. John knew that the young man had believed in him. Hell, Ford had followed his leadership willingly. He had never questioned John's past or the fact that he had shot Sumner. Ford simply believed that he would do the right thing.

Without even realizing it, John fired off his Beretta. Didn't remember pulling it out of his holster but it was in his hand and he emptied the clip and he heard the thud of a body dropping hard. Sucking in a breath as his ribs protested his movement, John got to his feet and made it over to where the Wraith lay. He shone his light on it and saw that he'd fired every shot into the bastard's face. It wasn't moving.

Stepping over the body, John staggered back out. He found Teyla waiting for him. 

"We have everyone in the jumpers, Major," she told him. "We must go now."

"Right." John felt her take his arm and he let her lead him off. He was so damn tired that he stumbled a bit. But by the time they reached Jumper one he was moving under his own power. He was back in control. He slid into the pilot's seat and lead his team back through the gate.

Elizabeth was waiting for them. "How many?" was the first thing she asked.

There had been seven men on Riley's team going out. Five marines and two scientists. "We lost three," John replied. Three marines. His men had protected the scientists. Not that they always could. John was sharply aware of his own failures in that regard.

"You did good, John," Elizabeth stated.

He didn't reply. Darkness was swirling over John and he let himself fall into it.

He woke up twice to Beckett's worried face. The second time he remembered what happened and was told he had three broken ribs, a mild concussion and had suffered some internal bleeding. The third time John woke up to find Rodney sitting next to him, tapping away on his lap top. John just looked at him until Rodney realized he was being stared at.

"You're awake!" Rodney closed the laptop and set in on the floor before rising to his feet. "Water?"

"Yes." John accepted the glass and took a few sips. "How long?" he asked, after Rodney set it back on the bedstand.

"Three days. Beckett says you'll be out in three if you behave." Rodney looked solemn. "He also said that by the time you're ready to go back out, I'll be ready."

John saw something in Rodney's face that made him ask, "Will you be ready?"

Rodney froze then met and held Sheppard's gaze. "Yeah...I'll be ready. You?"

"Hope so." John saw that he had surprised Rodney with his answer. He thought Rodney might understand. "This wasn't supposed to happen. Any of this."

"This?" Rodney echoed.

John sighed, carefully, feeling the pull on his ribs. Then he looked away, staring at the far wall as he tried to explain. "No emotional attachments."

Rodney was silent for a moment then asked, "Did I ever thank you for saving my life? Not that I have to thank you or anything, it's your job to save my life and all...but I figured it would be the polite thing to do. You know?"

"Because you're all about being polite," John shot back and this felt like the closest thing to normal that he could remember since Ford died. Well, normal for his life in the Pegasus galaxy anyway.

"We've all changed, Major," Rodney replied, pointedly.

John resisted the urge to nod at that. His head ached enough as it was. "Point taken."

Rodney grabbed the chair and pulled it closer then he sat down again. "I don't do the family thing...or the friends thing. But...it's kinda nice knowing that there's someone watching out for you. As clichéd as it sounds, and I really REALLY hate clichés...all we've got is each other. So...we do what we have to do."

"I've lost all control of my life since coming here," John said softly. "I'm not dealing with that very well."

"I'm not dealing with anything that's happened since coming here very well," Rodney shot back. "Why should you be any different?"

John was able to smile at that. "Because I'm me and you're you."

Rodney grinned. "Sad for you, but true." He dropped his eyes to the floor for a moment then asked, "Are you going to stop being an ass?"

"Are you?" The words were out before John could stop them.

"Not in this lifetime," Rodney replied.

John was glad to hear that, but his smile faded. "I'm not sure how to fix things." Translation: How to fix himself.

Rodney understood. "If you won't talk to Heightmeyer, then talk to me. Not that I'll listen, but sometimes it's just all about hearing ourselves talk. Right?"

"Right." John realized that it wasn't an easy offer for Rodney to make, and he appreciated it.

"You could talk to Teyla too. She understands emotions and stuff. Plus there's the added bonus that she can kick your ass to straighten you out when you're acting stupid." Rodney's eyes were almost twinkling as he spoke.

John arched one eyebrow at him and deadpanned, "Guess she'll be doing a lot of ass kicking then."

Rodney looked surprised then he nodded. "She needs to kick a few asses. Mine included."

"Add mine to the list," another voice interjected.

John turned his head to see Weir approaching. He sensed Rodney standing up and moving away.

Elizabeth settled in where Rodney had been, nodding to him as he slipped away. "How are you feeling, Major?" she asked.

"Been better," John replied, and he realized that this needed to be the moment of truth between them. "I'll work on that."

"So will I," Elizabeth countered. "I don't think I was ready for this...for any of this," she stated.

John understood that all too well. "I didn't sign up for any of this. No one did. Shit happens."

Elizabeth chuckled. "That's what Rodney said. I think you're rubbing off on him."

"He's rubbing off on me too." It surprised John to realize that. But in a good way. "Look...I don't talk about things much. I just find a way to deal with it. I didn't do such a good job of that this time."

"You've had so much happen to you since coming here, John," Elizabeth replied. "More so than anyone else. At least the rest of us were as prepared as we could be. You didn't even know about the Stargate or that you have a special gene. I never should have asked you to come."

John reached for her hand, trapping it with his own, seeing the surprise on her face at his actions. "I'm glad you asked." He let her see the truth of what he said in his eyes. "If we could go back and do this all over again, I would change a few things...but I'd still be here."

Elizabeth squeezed his hand. "Me too." She cleared her throat and tugged her hand free. "You should rest. I need you back out there as soon as possible, Major."

"I'll be back soon," John promised, and he was pretty sure he could keep his word. He watched Weir leave then closed his eyes. He slept without dreaming.

**EPILOGUE**

"GO!" John shouted at Rodney and Teyla then he covered their sixes with round after round as they headed through the gate. "Raise the shield!" John ordered, as he ran through.

Elizabeth was waiting for him. "What happened?"

John was grim. "Hostile territory. We were ambushed. They have weapons much like the Genii."

"Where's Lt. Blake?"

"He was captured." John locked eyes with Weir. "We have to go back. I need a team of six men, heavily armed. Teyla will come with me, Rodney stays here."

Elizabeth held Sheppard's gaze for a long moment.

John felt the tension in the air, just as he could feel all eyes upon them. It was as if everyone were holding their breath. He was holding his own.

"Can you do this?" Elizabeth asked.

"Yes." John didn't hesitate.

Elizabeth nodded. "You have a go."

John exhaled slowly, nodded back then turned to shout orders. Five minutes later they were stepping back through the gate.

Twelve hours later, they brought Lt. Blake home.

**THE END**


End file.
